Demons
by LaLaFilly
Summary: A Demon is a human with a supernatural ability, able to heal, lie, possess unnatural strength, speed or intelligence, affect sight or sounds, create physical shields, translate any language, or control another's mind. - Written by Jess & Ash.
1. Chapter One by Ash

ACE DOWNED HIS sixth shot of bourbon, stacking it atop his neatly designed pyramid.  
He inhaled, taking in the scent of tobacco and alcohol that floated in the air around the bar. His eyes roamed lazily over the dance floor, listening to the upbeat music that blasted from the speakers.  
Then he saw the girl.  
She appeared to be about fifteen, with long, straight locks of hair that were restrained in a neat ponytail. Her eyes were a glimmering blue, fixed in an expression of anger as they moved over the inhabitants of the bar.  
He chuckled, leaning back in his booth.  
Tonight held some fun in store.

CIRI GLARED AT the boy, lowering her hand to swing gently at her side. Invisible to those surrounding her, a katana hung from her right hip, the hilt as black as the blade.  
She was a Sight Demon, able to control what people saw. She glanced down at her weapon, viewing it as two layers: one showed her katana, the other showed only her jeans.  
She exhaled, before beginning to chew on her lip.  
How should she capture him? Attack first? Watch and study him?  
She opted for the latter, slipping into an unoccupied booth that gave her a full view of both the back door and main entrance, as well as an eye on him.  
She ordered a raspberry margarita, relaxing in her seat, her eyes intent.  
He was around seventeen, she knew, but he was taller than she expected. Spikes of jet black hair stood haphazardly, making his pale face all the more colourless. He had emerald green eyes that stood out against his complexion. They were half closed, accompanying a small grin that reminded her of someone remembering a private joke.  
She drummed her fingers on the table, agitated. Come on, call over another distraction.  
He was going to be a pain to kill. He could create physical shields - no neat decapitation then. And he had eluded them for over two years. He knew the usual procedure: wait until he was in the open, then go for the main organs.  
A tall, dark man in his late thirties gave a roaring laugh, sliding into the booth with the boy. Surprise gripped Ciri, tinged with a hint of worry. He had an accomplice?  
She swore softly, clenching her fists. Another one to kill. He was obviously a Demon - the boy wouldn't converse with humans - but what was his talent?  
Without knowing, it would be risky. He could be a Speed Demon, but his well-muscled frame suggested he was a Strength Demon.  
Either way, she wasn't going to risk her life on a pigheaded brat.  
Time for a new approach.  
Ciri breathed deeply, closing her eyes. Slowly, she altered her appearance.  
She wasn't really changing anything, but the people around her would see her as a cute, blonde beauty, with generous curves in a tight black dress. She would appear no older than sixteen.  
Beside her, would sit a giggly, dark-haired Asian girl in a black dress that barely cleared her hips.  
Ciri put on a sweet smile, standing up, her drink in hand. Her non-existent friend followed, the pink umbrella in her scotch rolling around the rim of her drink.  
She stopped at the boy's table, flashing them a perfect white smile.  
"Hi, I'm Sarah, and this is my friend Olivia. We're looking for two handsome guys to take us home."  
On cue, Olivia giggled, looking through slanted eyes at the man. She played with her umbrella, swishing ice cubes around.  
He leaned forwards, smiling. "Well, you've found them. I'm Rem and this is Ace. Have a seat - you need to finish your drinks."  
Olivia giggled again, sliding in next to him as he made room.  
Ace smiled, his eyes alight. He shifted over, and Ciri lowered her self down, surprised that Rem hadn't used a fake name for Ace.  
There was a small one-walled pyramid in the centre, constructed of upturned shot glasses.  
"Neat," she said, leaning into him. "Are you going to take me home?"  
Ace matched her sexy smile, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Why don't you have another drink first?"  
Her margarita was full. She glanced up at him, frowning.  
"Try something a little stronger," he suggested, motioning a waiter over. "Four bourbon shots, please."  
The waiter nodded, walking off.  
Ciri laughed at him. "Olivia won't drink one! She's got a scotch! If she drinks anymore, she'll fall over!"  
"They're not for her," he said, his eyes falling on Olivia, before returning to Ciri. "We're gonna have them."  
He was trying to get her drunk, Ciri realised with a jolt. Which either meant he knew who she was, or he was just taking advantage of a hot blonde that happened to walk his way.  
If she tried to stab him now, he'd attack. No way was she going to die.  
"Sweet," she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder.  
"One, two," Rem chanted, raising his drink at the same time as Olivia. "Three!"  
They chugged on their drinks, before slamming them on the table. Rem won.  
Olivia burst into a fit of soundless laughter, which Rem joined in to.  
The waiter returned with their drinks, and Ace scooped one up instantly. Ciri copied him, and they both took a quick gulp.  
Ciri dreaded the affect the alcohol would have on her as she added her glass to the pyramid.  
Ace took another, placing both his neatly on the structure.  
He pushed the other towards her, inviting her to take it.  
She did, raising it to her lips. It never entered her mouth. To the boys at the table with her, it did. She used her talent to alter the boys' vision.  
She put it back on table, seemingly empty, and licked her lips.  
"Come on, baby, let's dance," she said, jumping up, and dragging Ace out of the booth after her, eyes flashing with excitement.  
"Wow, how many drinks did you have?" he asked, but followed her to the dance floor.  
She laughed as he spun her around, a small smile playing on his lips.  
Music pounded in her ears, making them throb. She pushed herself up against Ace, hands linked around his neck.


	2. Chapter Two by Jess

ROARKE'S BODY THROBBED with the loud music that was pouring out the nearby club and travelling down the alleyway to his sensitive ears. The shadows surrounded him as he crept along the wall towards the club's only door, heavily guarded by two large bouncers. Not a major problem for him. The only potential issue that could possibly arise from this certain encounter would be someone coming to investigate, and Roarke didn't exactly want to deal with _more _stupid humans.  
Just before Roarke reached the alley's opening onto the empty street, he crouched low against the filthy brick wall. Closing his eyes, he blocked out all the noise coming from the club and concentrated on his soul. Roarke felt the familiar rush of exhilaration as his Eagle form took over his body. He straightened up and opened his golden eyes, bright with natural curiosity. Roarke was a Shifter. This was his life.  
Roarke opened his wings and welcomed the breeze that felt ten times more invigorating than when he was as his human self. Shuffling his large clawed feet the last metre and exiting the alleyway, Roarke beat his wings a few times and took off in the direction of the bouncers.

Once inside the club, Roarke shifted back to his human form behind the largest pot plant he could find, which, he noted, was artificial, like most things these days. Shrugging, he headed straight for his second favourite place in the world. The bar. He waved cheerfully at the regular bartender, Alex, who gave him a questioning look in return. Roarke guessed he should probably explain why he was here, and why he was here _now._ As Roarke reached the bar counter, Alex raised his grey eyebrows.  
"Yeah, yeah. I broke the rules, okay?"  
"Hell, yeah, Roarke. I'm already serving you your regular drinks… and covering it." An awkward silence followed Alex's rant. "How did you get in here, Roarke?"  
Just last week, Roarke had been a tad too forward with another local. His punishment was a three week ban. Not that Roarke acknowledged this. "Let's just say I used my talents."  
Alex huffed and turned away to get Roarke his drink, an Irish concoction, called Alcopops, made with water, sugar, food color, juice and strong alcohol. Handing it to Roarke, Alex turned again, shaking his head, and began making two more, as it was customary for Roarke to have more than one. Despite this, Roarke never made it past his record of three glasses.  
Sipping the drink slowly, Roarke studied the crowd and thought of his trip he went on last year with his father to Ireland. Being Irish of descent, Roarke hadn't minded. What he _had _minded though, was that that was the last time he would ever see his father again. Some idiot had ploughed into his motorbike, killing his father instantly. Just one of many reasons that the bar was a favourite spot for Roarke. With effort, Roarke drew himself away from the painful memory, scanning the crowd on the dance floor again. A blonde haired girl caught Roarke's attention instantly. _Damn, _he thought. Like in a trance, Roarke made his way down onto the floor. He was just two wriggling bodies away when he saw him_._ No, he did not know him, but Roarke felt as if he had seen this boy before. Tall, but still looking sixteen or seventeen, the boy had dark, spiked hair and bright, green eyes. Around his left wrist was a tattooed pattern, delicate tendrils that wove around each other. Ignoring the look the boy gave him, Roarke tapped on the girl's shoulder, making her turn.  
"Er. Hi." Roarke smiled.  
"And who the hell are you?" the girl fired back.  
"The best thing that's ever happened to you," Roarke said, his voice low.  
"Mmhmm." She looked unconvinced.  
"Hey, buddy! I don't know who you are, but this is _my _girl," the taller boy snarled.  
"Okay, _buddy._ Don't worry. Have her." Roarke laughed. "She's way out of your league anyway."  
Roarke turned sharply on his heel, heading back towards the bar.  
Suddenly, a strong hand dragged him backwards, almost pulling him off his feet. It let go for only a moment, allowing Roarke to spin around looking for his attacker. He had already guessed who it might have been. The tall dark-haired boy was glowering, his face becoming red with anger. Roarke held up his hands, palms facing outwards. "Okay, didn't mean to make you mad. What have you had to drink, anyway? A bar's no place for a teenager." Like he could talk. Roarke was barely nudging 18.  
This last comment seemed to provoke the boy even further, and Roarke bent his knees; slid into a subtle crouch. Although this wasn't exactly threatening, the taller boy let out an unusual growl and came barreling towards Roarke, aiming for his stomach. Roarke simply side-stepped and followed through by swinging a clutched fist towards the boy's back. Although emitting most of his power into his punch, Roarke's fist never even grazed the boy's shirt. Instead, an invisible force stopped Roarke's attack, sending splitting pain up his muscled arm. Ignoring the throbbing, Roarke looked up at the boy now standing just in front of him, staring down coldly. As he straightened up, Roarke gave a probing look at the boy. He just shrugged in answer. "So," Roarke said, hiding a grimace, "You're like me."  
The other boy glared at him, eyes narrowed. A muscle in his jaw twitched in agitation. "Who _are_ you?" he snapped.


	3. Chapter Three by Ash

CIRI WAS PISSED off. She had been so close, _so close_ to getting a clean shot at Ace, and then a jack-ass had barged in.  
He was completely destroying her plan. Totally ruining it.  
Goddamn moron.  
He slipped into a predatory crouch, as if preparing himself. Ace, well past even noticing her now, charged at the boy, a snarl tearing from his throat. When the boy sidestepped and swung around for a shot at his back, she almost slapped him for his stupidity.  
As she predicted, Ace simply threw up a shield - a shield that nearly broke the bones in the boy's arm. His eyes, flickering with confusion, pain and anger, locked on Ace's.  
The two glared, before the boy said gruffly, "So, you're like me."  
Ciri's heart jumped, and she quickly quenched the shock threatening to take over her face. He was a demon. That meant Ace suspected that he would try to kill him. Then his shield would be high tonight. So much for a clean kill.  
"Who _are _you?" Ace snapped, his emerald eyes flashing.  
Ciri let out a breath, fighting the anger that shook her. Her cover was as good as blown. Dropping the hot blonde disguise, she slid out her katana, feeling the reassuring weight on her fingers. The black blade gleamed in the multi-coloured lights that streaked the dance floor.  
"Right, you son of a bitch," she snarled, stepping forwards.  
The boy swung around to face her, as if he had forgotten she was there. His eyes widened at the sight of her weapon.  
"I don't care who the hell you are, or what you're doing here, but I want you to piss off _now_."  
"Um, who are you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.  
She breathed in slowly, her teeth clenched. "Three, two..."  
The boy took a small stepped back, as if unsure whether she was serious.  
"One," she snapped, bringing the blade in a clean swipe towards him.  
He let out a shocked yelp, before he disappeared.  
In his place, its golden eyes glaring, stood a Grey Wolf. Its lips were pulled back, revealing white teeth and pink gums. Its hackles stood stiff, its body arched in a crouch, ready to pounce.  
Freaking hell! How many Demons were in this bar?  
She narrowed her eyes, her hands instinctively finding their grip on the handle of her katana.  
"Got any friends I should know about, pup?" she said with a smirk.  
Adrenaline was pumping through her veins, but her head was cool, fixed with need to teach this bastard a lesson.  
The wolf-boy snarled, stepping forwards slowly in a predatory walk.  
She raised the sword, ready to split his head.  
His ears pricked up, his eyes swinging to her right, his left.  
She followed his gaze, and swore.  
Ace was gone.  
She sheathed her katana, picking up a sprint as she raced for the doorway. She glanced at their table, and noticed that Rem was gone.  
Biting her lip, she faltered to a stop on the pavement. The wolf stopped beside her, his nose lifted to the air. Searching for a trail, obviously.  
He bolted suddenly, and she took chase as he made straight for the alley running beside the bar.  
Ciri saw a form drawing to a halt, before she hit a wall of nothing.  
She staggered backwards as the wolf rolled to his feet, snarling in anger.  
She slammed her palm against the force field, crying out in anger.  
"Get back here, you coward!" she screamed.  
Ace stepped back into the light, his expression unhappy.  
"Let us out!" she shouted.  
"You both tried to kill me, why would I let you out?" he asked boredly, leaning against the dirty brick wall.  
The wolf shifted back into his human form. "I wasn't trying to _kill_ you, that was her. I just wanted to smash your face in."  
Ace smiled dryly. "Like you would have succeeded."  
"You couldn't hit an elephant if it was standing right in front of you," he said, anger distorting his voice. As if to prove his point, he shifted into a giant elephant, forcing Ciri to leap back to make room. He stomped angrily, his trunk slamming against the force field.  
Ace narrowed his eyes. "I'm leaving," he snapped, turning on his heel.  
The boy shifted back. "Wait! Are you running because you can't beat me? Let me out and we'll see who's the better man."  
Ace just waved at them without turning around, his laughter echoing down the alley.  
"Come on, you can't leave us in here," he said, depression leaking into his words.  
But Ace was gone, leaving them trapped in the forcefield-bubble.  
The boy sighed, his shoulders slumping. "He's left us in here."  
He turned around, and Ciri just stared at him.  
"What?" he asked, frowning.  
"That is the fastest I've ever seen anyone pass through the five stages of grief," she replied, shaking her head.


	4. Chapter Four by Jess

"DAMN," ROARKE COMPLAINED, sighing again. He looked up at the girl, who was still staring at him. "What did you say your name was?" he asked, putting on a thick layer of sweet talk.

"I didn't." The girl still stared at him. An eerie silence followed her sharp words, which echoed out and down the quiet street.

Roarke sat patiently; girls always gave into things like these.

Eventually, the girl let out the breath she seemed to be holding. "Fine," she said. Roarke smiled at her; the way she pouted intrigued him. "I'm Cyrilla." She looked down.

"That wasn't _so _bad, was it?" Roarke's smile broadened when Cyrilla frowned openly at him. "Quite a mouthful though, isn't it?"

"Not really. Most _normal_ people can say it without any trouble," she retorted.

"Normal? That's saying things. _You're _not even normal," Roarke continued taunting.

"Well, jackass, if you can't say it, most people call me Ciri anyways."

"Okay, _Ciri_. Whatever you say, _Ciri._" Roarke looked intently at the girl, who couldn't have been more than sixteen. She dropped her gaze and played with the hem of her shirt. "And don't worry about me. I know exactly what you are, so you don't have to worry yourself with telling me." His voice lowered considerably, and he asked, "You're a Sight Demon, aren't you?" Ciri gave a small nod. Roarke continued talking, almost to himself. "Amazing Demons. I've only ever come across two before, including you," he smiled ruefully at Ciri. "Extremely rare."

"And what about you, Shifter? You're pretty rare yourself. Most who can Shift only have it as their Secondary Ability. And even then, they're not close to how powerful you are." She looked pointedly at Roarke.

"Sure. I mean, I'm the only one for generations in my family. Last Shifter I knew about was my great, great, great, gre—"

"I get the point."

"Whatever." Roarke looked down the alleyway, bored. "But you didn't ask _my_ name."

"Who said I wanted to know?"

Roarke looked back at her, only swiveling his head around against the wall. "I say so. Because I can feel it. I sense your curiosity." Ciri let out an annoyed huff. "I'm Roarke."

"Okay, _Roarke. _Whatever you say, _Roarke_," Ciri said, finally smiling at him. "So," she said, not hiding her curiosity anymore, "What's your Born Animal?" She made it sound like it was a new piece of news, just waiting to be gossiped about.

"Oh. Just an eagle." Roarke took the interrogation patiently. He'd always wanted a sibling. Thinking of siblings naturally made him think of Abby, who he liked to call his 'adoptive' sister.

"Just an eagle! What are you, crazy?"

"No..."

"Eagles like, own!" Ciri didn't disappoint Roarke's image of a high school cheerleader.

"Yeah, I guess they do." He grinned suddenly. "You wanna see?"

A slow, shy smile crept over the younger girl's face. "Er, sure," she said politely.

Roarke easily slid into his Eagle, melting away until he felt the familiar rush of heightened senses. Ciri squealed a bit, and Roarke rolled his golden eyes. "Oh, that's why your eyes are golden! And why your hair has that white streak in it!" Ciri sounded like a schoolgirl on a fieldtrip. He quickly shifted back and said, "Yeah, I think so."

Standing up abruptly, Roarke walked off, out into the street. "Hey!" Ciri called, running to catch up. "Oh, Ace must've moved out of range." Roarke continued walking, letting his feet take him on the well-known walk home. "Hey!" Ciri called again, "Where are you going?"

"Home," Roarke replied, throwing a wave over his shoulder. He wanted to get rid of all that had happened that night. And he hadn't even finished _one _of his Alcopops. He wasn't even slightly drunk either, not helping in his quest to forget; a quest to stay sane.

"Where's home, exactly?" Ciri asked cautiously.

"Out by the cliffs, exactly," came Roarke's witty reply.

"The _cliffs_? But that's- that's miles away!"

"Not by the bird's fly," Roarke said, loosing his control. "Look, okay, nice meeting you, another Demon and all, but I'm sick of this night. And I didn't even get drunk. Okay? So just leave me alone."

"What's your problem? Some girl ditch you? Parents divorced?"

"Kind of. You have no idea."

"Well, _tell_ me." Ciri's voice had become quiet, slightly soothing.

"Father died when I was sixteen; last year; never knew my mother. I'm an only child. I live by myself and sometimes my best friend stays over. She's a Healer." Roarke looked over his shoulder to see her reaction, which went from surprise at his openness, to shock at his blunt story. "Go home, Cyrilla."

With that, Roarke turned and strode down the road, heading out of town.

"Wait! Wait! Bitch…" Ciri's insult was comical.

"I told you," Roarke seethed, "to go home."

"I'm not going home; you can't make me. We have to go after Ace; you of all people should know that." Ciri's voice was rising with agitation.

"Whoever this Ace person is, I have nothing to do with him. He's not my problem right now."

"_Ace_ happens to be a Deflector. You figured that much, right? And, he just so happens to be on the run."

"On the run from what?" Roarke had to know. He had been the town's permanent Demon for five years now, and it made him responsible for the coming and going of other Demons. All Demons not living somewhere permanently had to report their whereabouts regularly.

"The Council. I work for them. I'm just following orders." Ciri looked on as Roarke digested this. She sighed, jumping to her feet. "We need to get going."

"We?" Roarke said incredulously.

"I wasn't the one who engaged him in a fight."

"No, you were the one who seduced him in an attempt to put a knife in his guts."

"First of all, it's a sword," she said, anger growing in her tone. "Second of all, seduction is a better technique than coming head-on. Finally, I almost succeeded!"

"Almost," Roarke said, emphasizing the word. "Almost. But you didn't."

"Because of you!"

"Uh-uh!"

"Uh-huh! And you know it. You're coming whether you want to or not."

"You can't make me," he shot back with a smirk.

"Do you really want to test a Sight Demon?" She leaned down into his face, baring a sinister smile. "I can make you live your worst nightmare, pup."

Roarke glared at her. "Oh, yeah?"

"Oh, hell, yeah. Now, are you coming with me or not?"


	5. Chapter Five by Ash

ACE SWORE, STAGGERING as he tripped on the overturned side table for the third time. He had thrown it across the room in a fit of anger towards those two Demons, and had been continuously falling over it throughout the last hour.

The door opened, and a smug looking Rem stepped in, his smile disappearing quickly as he took in Ace's expression.

"Where the hell have you been?" he hissed between clenched teeth.

Rem sighed, closing the door. "Chill. I'm sorry if that girl ditched you but-"

"_That girl_ was a Sight Demon and she was accompanied by a Shifting Demon. They ambushed me. And where were you? Of with some non-existent bitch."

Rem's eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry, okay? Now, where's the beer?"

"We're leaving, now," Ace snapped, hands clenching at his sides. "I am not having half the Council after me."

The Demon Council were the highest of the Demons. They made the laws, enforced them and decided the punishment for those who disobeyed. Those like him.

He clenched his teeth, anger coursing through him.

"If you touch that bottle, I'll break your arm," Ace snarled as Rem reached for a bottle of XXXX.

Rem shot his a look of annoyance, before recoiling his arm.

"What's your problem with these two anyway?" he muttered.

"They're from the Council, and if they're from the Council, I don't want to be within one hundred miles of them," Ace growled, walking to the door. "Come on."

"Aw, but-"

"One bottle," Ace allowed, turning the knob.

He froze in the doorway, barely having time to take in the three men waiting patiently outside before they moved.

One was tall and slim, with chestnut brown hair and startlingly gold eyes. He stood to Ace's right.

Another was also tall and slim, with blonde hair and sea-blue eyes. He stood attentively to the left.

The last was bald, with irises a few shades lighter than black. He was shorter than the others, with a stocky build. But what captured Ace's attention the most was that his mouth had been stitched closed.

Without warning, the two men had gone, reappearing behind Ace and Rem.

Ace drew in a sharp breath, extending his neck in a effort to put distance between it and the blade resting there. A firm hand securing his left upper arm.

Rem would have been restrained, too.

Ace was pulled gently but firmly back as the bald man stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

_Ace, Ace, Ace, _a voice tutted from within his head. _What would we do without you?_

Ace narrowed his eyes. "You're a Thought Demon."

_Indeed,_ the bald man said, his eyes gleaming. He gestured to his sewn lips. _Compliments to the Council._

Ace smiled grimly. "They caught you, didn't they?"

_Yes, they did. I was spilling secrets to criminals. But now, _you're _going to spill to _me.

"Why me?" Ace demanded.

_Because you saw the girl, _he said simply.

"The blonde-"

Ace shook his head, clearing it.

"The Sight Demon?"

The bald man nodded.

"Why do you want information on her?"

_We had a...tussle in the past. I intend to repay her for that._

"What do you want to know?"

_What does she look like? When you first saw her. What colour hair? What colour eyes? What age?_

His eyes gleamed in the apartment lights.

"Brown hair. In a ponytail," Ace said coldly. "Blue eyes. She was fifteen."

_Thank you, _the man said.

"How old is she really?" Ace asked before he could stop himself.

The man's eyes sparkled with interest. _Sixteen and a half, by my count._

"Are you done holding us hostage?"

The man inclined his head in gratitude. _Yes, we are._

The men restraining them - Speed Demons, Ace realised - returned to his side in the blink of an eye.

_Thank you, I pray we will not have to meet again soon._

Without another word, they all turned and left the room, closing the door behind them.

Ace rubbed his neck, the feeling of the knife at his neck still lingering there.

He didn't like how that had gone. He knew nothing about them, except that the two tall men were Speed Demons working for a Thought Demon who, for reasons unknown to Ace, wanted to hunt down and murder the Sight Demon. They knew too much about him for Ace's liking.

He felt a strange urge to protect the Sight Demon.

He shook himself.

Protect her? After she had tried to kill him? No way.

But he could at least warn her. Give her a chance to get away before the bald man tried to kill her. He only had a short amount of time to get there.

"Come on," Ace murmured, turning to Rem. "We're leaving. _Now_."


	6. Chapter Six by Jess

"STOP." ROARKE'S VOICE cut into the darkness, pulling Ciri up short. Holding his face upwards, Roarke brought out his Wolf, but only its sense of smell. By doing this, he could remain in his human form, but have the advantage of whatever enhanced sense he wanted.  
"What is it-?"  
"Keep quiet." Roarke moved back against a low picket fence, crouching there. "Someone's coming."  
Quickly copying him, Ciri dropped down behind Roarke, having to lean on his arched back in an effort to not fall onto him. Roarke turned his head around, eyebrows raised.  
"Sorry," Ciri whispered, removing her hands and holding them up in surrender.  
"Guess what?" Roarke said as he focused forward again.  
"What, Roarke?"  
"We have a friend." At Ciri's confused shuffle behind him, Roarke said with an edge in his voice, "It's Ace."  
A dark figure rounded the corner, three houses away. It was striding hard, seeming to be in a hurry. Roarke straightened slightly, into a hunting crouch.  
"Bring it, bitch!" Roarke shouted, springing from his crouch and shifting midair into his Panther subconsciously.  
Racing towards Ace with an unexpected speed, Roarke managed to put a deep scratch in Ace's muscled shoulder. His next attack was weary; he now knew of Ace's shield, and was still feeling its reminder in his throbbing arm.  
"Well, hello, my friend," Ace sneered. Roarke growled menacingly in reply. "Come on out, girl. I know you're there…"  
Roarke shifted back and turned to glare directly in Ace's eyes. "What, came back to finish us because you weren't man enough to do it before?"  
"Oh, maybe. I might just do that for you." Ace's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "But I actually came to help you." Roarke gave him a questioning look, one eyebrow shooting up.  
"And what help do you think you're giving us by gracing us with your presence? Go. Away."  
"Boys…" Ciri stepped in between the two older boys, and pushed Roarke backwards.  
"Well," Ace continued, looking at Ciri. "The news I got is that a rebel group is coming to kill _you._ Just thought you should know…"  
"What?" Roarke said, concerned.  
"They're coming; I'm sure about it. Oh, yeah, they also have two speed demons and a thought demon, so you might want to keep that in mind."  
Roarke stared at the retreating back of Ace. "What the hell, man? You can tell us, but you can't help us?"  
Ace stopped, turning slowly. "You _want_ my help?" he asked incredulously.  
"Only if you get rid of that self-proclaiming attitude," Roarke conditioned. "Or you could call it pig-headedness."  
"Like you can talk," Ace shot back, smirking.  
Roarke threw a hand across his forehead in a mock swoon.  
"I'll kill you, you know?" Ace threatened half-heartedly.  
"Not if I kill you first." Roarke smiled, and stretched his hand out towards Ace. "I'm Roarke."  
"Ace." The two boys shook hands, slapping each other on the back.  
"Okay, now that you guys have got the whole bromance thing outta the way, can we please get going?" Ciri pleaded, looking around anxiously.  
"Whatever," Roarke said, walking off with Ace right behind him.  
"You're not _with_ her, are you?" Ace stage whispered.  
"Hell, no. I'm running my own race, man." Roarke joked.  
"I _can _hear you," Ciri groaned, trudging after the two boys.  
A loud crash, followed by a string of profanities, drifted from around the corner, making the trio freeze mid-step. "Yo, Ace," an older voice called. "Come help this old man."  
"Ha. It's only Rem, guys. Loosen up." Ace jogged around the corner, Ciri and Roarke on his heels.  
Rem leaned against a trash can, a big smile plastered on his face as he held up his whiskey bottle. "Happy birthday!" he said with a laugh, the words slurring. He threw his head back and took a gulp of the alcohol, before staggering past them.  
"Nice company you keep," Ciri said. Ace shot her a glare.  
"Better than no company at all, right?" Ace questioned, raising one eyebrow.  
"Mm. I guess so," Ciri replied, sarcasm leaking into her voice.  
"Hey, you guys wanna head to my place?" Roarke walked over to where Ace and Ciri were standing, the now half-empty whiskey bottle in his hand. "I've got a stock!" he called back over his shoulder.  
"Ugh. What did you say your friend's name was? Because I look forward to meeting her," Ciri said as she turned to walk in the direction of the cliffs. Rem snatched back his bottle, taking another sip.  
"How bout you hitch a ride?" Roarke asked, shifting into his Horse.  
"Aww," Ciri said, leaning forward to stroke Roarke's head, her previous expression softening. "Does all your colouring transfer? Like, is that why you're a buckskin?"  
Roarke nodded patiently, then motioned for them to climb up. "Are you sure, mate? Rem's pretty heavy," Ace laughed.  
Roarke snorted indignantly, and began trotting off, Rem scrambling to get his seat, but failing.  
"Woah, Roarke. Slow down, man." Ace teetered on the rump of Roarke's Horse, grabbing Ciri's shirt in the process.  
"Oh, come on, wuss. He's only _trotting_." Roarke whinnied a laugh.  
"Fine. I'll-" Ace finally toppled right off Roarke, landing heavily on his arm, before putting up a shield to soften the rest of his fall. "_Walk_," he finished.  
Ciri giggled loudly and pointed at a forlorn Ace. "Sh-a-me." She laughed again, before gripping slightly harder on Roarke's dark brown mane.


	7. Chapter Seven by Ash

ACE RUBBED HIS arm, trudging along after Roarke and Ciri, his shoes kicking up gravel as he went. Rem was staggering after him singing, 'I'm a little teapot'.

A white house rose up from the darkness, its second story reflecting back images of themselves - glass windows.

Ciri slipped off Roarke's back, before he shifted back into a human.

"Welcome to my lair," he drawled, shifting into a kookaburra as he laughed evilly.

Ciri chuckled, ascending the stairs.

Roarke unlocked the door, stepping inside. Ace followed, glancing behind him to see that Rem had passed out on the lawn.

"Brilliant," he muttered.

Roarke flicked on a light switch, bathing them all in a golden glow. CDs lined the hallway, Three Days Grace, Breaking Benjamin and Muse staring up at him.

"Wow, this place is _huge_," Ciri commented, moving further into the house.

Ace turned to his left, moving towards the lounge room. He turned on the light, before slamming up a forcefield that surrounded himself, Ciri and Roarke in a tight bubble.

"Hey!" Ciri said, spinning around, before her eyes widened.

The bald man rose from the couch, walking towards them.

His Speed Demon bodyguards ran forwards, slamming their hands into Ace's shield repeatedly, searching for gaps.

Ace glared at the bald man.

_It was such a shame that you had to go to them, tell them, _the bald man said regretfully, shaking his head. _I could have left you alive, but after this I'm afraid..._

"What's he saying to you?" Ciri demanded, walking towards Ace.

"He's going to kill me, too," Ace said, his voice cold. "Thanks for the heads up."

_I'll give you one more chance, Ace. If you drop the shield, I'll make it quick, painless._

"Get bent," Ace snapped.

The bald man narrowed his eyes, before a high pitched whistle burst through Ace's head. He cried out, slamming his hands to his ears, but the noise pulsed in his head, making it spike with pain.

"Ciri! A plan would be really helpful right now!" he said between clenched teeth, struggling to keep the shield up.

The noise doubled in his mind, his head flaring with pain. He groaned, struggling to concentrate.

"Ace!" Ciri shouted over the noise, and he glanced down at her. "Keep hold of the shield."

Oh right, he was holding up a shield. What was he holding it up against?

As if on cue, one of the Speed Demons leapt from the shadows, his hands slamming against the pressurised air.

Ace let out a cry, checking his shield. It was completely closed off.

The Demon ran around the perimeter with lightning-fast speed, running into the shied again.

"How many are there?" he shouted in disbelief, his eyes never leaving the determined men.

"Two," Ciri replied. "How can we get out?"

Ace checked his position. He was in a house foyer, the door less than three metres away.

"Can you move the shield?" she asked.

Ace shook his head. "I can't move shields. They're like brick walls. And I can only make one at once.

"Roarke! Get over here!" Ciri called over her shoulder and a tall boy - Roarke, Ace remembered - appeared to his left. "Ace, can you drop the shield, then rebuild it so that we can get out to Rem?"

"Where's Rem?" he asked, frowning.

"On the lawn outside."

He exhaled. "Okay. On three...one, two…three!"

He dropped the shield, and they rushed forwards, the Demon appearing behind them instantly. Ace threw it back up, this time encasing the entire front lawn and the gravel drive, extending as far as he could manage - a good five miles.

Ciri smiled at him. "You are amazing."

He returned the smile, walking over to Rem. "Hey, get up, buddy."

Rem moaned, sitting up as he clutched his head. "Where am I? Whoa, who are-?"

"I doesn't matter," Ciri interrupted, cutting him off. "We need to get away from here fast."

"Where to?" he asked.

"Abby's house," Roarke replied.

"Abby?"

"My friend. I'll lead. Just follow me."

Roarke led the way, the group trailing after him.

Slowly, Roarke's house faded into the background, and the whining noise filling his head became a constant distraction. He placed a palm to his ear, wincing.

"Oh, shit," Ciri said, digging into her pocket.

She withdrew an iPod, handing it to him.

"Put it on full volume," she ordered him.

"But, that-"

"Do it!"

He glared, but put the earbuds in his ears, glancing down at the screen. The small print of 'Supermassive Black Hole' flashed across it. The song fired up, the guitar giving him a headache.

"Hurry up!" Ciri snapped, and Roarke pushed himself into a jog. Ace picked up his pace.

Soon, Ace was out of breath, and the headache had progressed into a migraine. He groaned, doubling over as he panted.

"His brain can't take much more stress," Ciri said, worry lining her tone as she turned to Roarke. "It wants to rest, to let him heal. It's taking too much effort to keep the shield up."

"What can we do?" Roarke asked, glancing as Ace with anxious eyes. "If you knock him out, he'll lose conciousness and drop the shield. If he drops the shield, we'll die."

Ciri eyed Ace, and he squinted back at her, his lungs burning and perspiration dripping into his eyes.

"Can you carry him?" she asked, her eyes not leaving him.

"Yeah," Roarke replied.

"Then get ready to catch him," she muttered, snatching Rem's bottle away. Rem made a sound of disapproval, but didn't pursue it.

She shoved the bottle towards Ace. "Drink it."

He eyed the bottle warily. There was only a quarter left, but it would knock him off his face.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I could drop the shield-"

"You won't," Ciri interrupted, curling his fingers around the bottle. "Just remember that you have to keep the shield up. Chant it to yourself."

Keep the shield up. Right.

Ace raised the bottle to his lips, hesitating. Ciri eyed him expectantly.

Keep the shield up.

Ace took a gulp, wincing at its fiery taste.

Keep the shield up.

"All of it," Ciri encouraged.

Keep the shield up.

Ace finished the bottle, releasing it. It smashed on the road beside him.

Keep...keep the...

He slumped forwards, Roarke just managing to catch him before he face-planted.

"The shield's still up," Ciri commented. "Now let's move."

Keep the...shield? Yeah, the shield. Keep the shield up. The pretty, glimmering shield.

Ace chuckled, watching the houses race past as the group picked up to a sprint.

"How much further?" Ciri demanded angrily.

"Next street," Roarke replied.

Slowly, everything faded to a dull blur, the world quieting around him. Ace smiled, relaxing.

"Almost there."


	8. Chapter Eight by Jess

"ABBY!" ROARKE POUNDED on the wooden door, trying not to dent it with his strength. "Aibhlin! Answer your door, for crying out loud."

A few tense seconds passed, with Ace still moaning pitifully.

"Roarke? Roarke, what the hell?" Abby's face appeared in the window beside the door frame, her blonde hair glowing in the moonlight. "I do have _parents_ you know. Just because you're my best friend, doesn't-"

"Yeah, yeah. Please just let us in, Abby?" Roarke pleaded. "It's pretty urgent."

Aibhlin unlocked the door reluctantly, eyeing the three strangers over Roarke's broad shoulders. "Ok. But just be real quiet," she said, looking nervously back up the stairs.

REM AND CIRI, still dragging Ace, filed in through the single door after Roarke, and stood awkwardly in the hallway, looking around them. Abby's house was not as extravagant as Roarke's, although it wasn't as modern. The house was a two-storey Victorian, with a porch encircling the entire first floor. All but one of the second floor's windows was dark. "Still reading?" Roarke noted, glancing upwards to the lit window.

"Um. Yeah," Abby said, not meeting Roarke's inquiring gaze. "I couldn't sleep. You know." She shrugged casually.

Another long silence passed, with Ace clutching his head and leaning heavily on Roarke. "Do you want me to Heal him, or what?" Aibhlin eventually said. Roarke just looked at her. "What, is that not why you came?"

"It's… more complicated than that." Roarke transferred his weight onto his other foot, being careful not to let Ace fall. "Basically, there're some rebels after Ciri here," Roarke said, gesturing towards Ciri, the girl with the brown hair "and we're fleeing them. And Ace," he continued, jerking his head at Ace's slumped form, "protected us from the Speed Demons with his Deflection. The leader of the rebels was a Thought Demon, and he kept trying to get Ace's guard down. I don't know how exactly, but Ace used a lot of energy holding up his shields and stuff. Ciri gave him some alcohol, to dumb his mind down - as if it could get any worse. So, that's why Ace is a bit under-the-weather on us. The constant 'war' in his head has made his brain overheat - or shrivel as I like to refer to it as - and so it wants to shut down." Roarke gave an exasperated look and dragged Ace into the lounge room, letting him fall onto the nearest couch. Roarke rotated his neck, stretching his back.

"I'D NEVER THOUGHT I'd see the day when my best friend found something that was relatively heavy to him," Abby said as she walked up behind Roarke.

"He's not heavy," Roarke protested, "It's just the way I had to carry-"

"Oh, I'm sure." Abby laughed, patting Roarke on his shoulder in mock pity. "I think I could heal his pain and fatigue, but not his brain… thing." Abby looked at Roarke for affirmation.

"I don't know!" he insisted. "You're the Healer and all."

"Whatever. I'll try my best." Aibhlin knelt down beside Ace's limp body, his arm dangling off the couch.

"Wait. What are you doing?" Ciri asked as she rushed through to the lounge, after making sure Rem couldn't get to the fridge.

"I'm just going to try heal his pain. I don't know if I can fix up his brain, though," Abby said patiently.

"You can't knock him out," Ciri said sharply. "If he's unconscious, he'll drop the shield."

Abby exhaled, irritated. "What exactly is wrong with him?"

"His brain's under too much stress from work. Think of it as overworking. His brain sensed his distress and it tried to knock him out to perform a diagnostic, to heal him. I gave him some whiskey. Lots of it. He's drunk, and there may be a burst blood vessel in his head."

"May be?" Abby said skeptically.

"I may be a Sight Demon, but I can't see _inside_ his head, I can only create fake images," Ciri shot back, her eyes narrowing.

"Did he complain of peripheral vasoconstriction? The edges of his vision turning black?"

"No, he didn't complain of it," Ciri said slowly. "But he had it."

"Excuse me?" Abby said, frowning in confusion.

"When I change what a person sees, I can perform a special technique that allows me to convert what they see into two layers - what I make them see and what they are really seeing. Ace couldn't see anything in his peripheral vision. I made it seem like he could though."

"Okay, so he has a Class Two hemorrhage," Abby said, sighing as she hooked a strand of hair behind her ear. "He should recover if he rests, but I'm guessing you don't want that. Where is the bleeding?"

"Near his ears," Ciri replied. "How do you know all this?"

"I'm training to be a doctor," Abby explained offhandedly. "Makes sense, me being a healer and all. Roarke? Would you mind flipping him onto his side?"

"Sure." Roarke stepped in between the two girls and shoved Ace up onto his shoulder traditional rescue-style.

"Ok. I need quiet so I can focus," Abby said, leaning forward to place her hands, palms downwards, on Ace's shoulder and arm. "It might be best if you both go out. This is harder than my usual healing."

Agreeing, Roarke and Ciri stepped out into the hallway, listening to Aibhlin's quiet murmuring.


	9. Chapter Nine by Ash

CIRI RAN HER fingers over the book covers that stood neatly on the bookshelf. They were all books on human organs or medical diaries.

She didn't like how tonight was going.

First, she had failed her mission, and had had her cover blown. Then she had joined forces with three guys she didn't even know. And now she was being attacked by the very man she had uncovered making deals with criminals.

She leaned against a bare piece of wall, crossing her arms over her chest. She could understand Brocklyn's motive perfectly. But some other things bothered her.

When they had first entered Roarke's house, Ace had moved into the lounge room, and as soon as he had seen Brocklyn, he'd thrown up a shield. He obviously knew that Brocklyn was dangerous, otherwise he would have mistaken him for a friend of Roarke's. How had he known who Brocklyn was?

They had met before. They'd have to, for him to be able to recognise him so easily. Then again, with his sewn mouth, no one could forget him.

But it had been dark, so Ace recognised his face. Where had they met?

She narrowed her eyes.

He was in league with Brocklyn. It was the only explaination. He had pretended to be afraid of him, had protected them all, to gain their trust.

And he was lying in the room, being nursed back to perfect health.

Ciri swore, pushing off the wall.

Roarke's head jerked up from where he sat on the chair.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

"Outside," she said, making her way to the front door.

"Are you insane? There are two Speed Demons running around the house, waiting for us to come out. And you're just going to hand yourself over on a silver platter?"

"I'm invisible, remember?" Ciri said, making herself flicker in his view. "Besides, I can take care of myself."

Her right hand twisted around her katana handle.

"Stay indoors. Hide Rem and Ace from Abby's parents if you have to. Do not leave until I come back. I don't care what anyone says. Tie them up if you have to. Clear?"

Roarke nodded slowly as Ciri stepped outside.

CIRI KNOCKED ON the door again, eyes flickering attentively around for any signs of life.

The door opened a crack, and two brown eyes appeared.

"Ciri?" the boy said, surprised. She barged past him, and he shut the door behind her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I have a problem," she said, turning to face him.

"Tell me."

She stared at him, his caramel brown eyes, his tousled blonde hair. Takoda had been a friend of hers since she had been eight, and despite his ability, she trusted him fully. He was a Pursuation Demon, able to make anyone believe him, whether he was lying or telling the truth.

"I screwed up a mission, and now the guy I was meant to kill is on my team. We're being chased by Brocklyn."

Takoda's eyes widened. "Brocklyn? Geez, how did he manage to find you?"

"Ace - the guy I'm supposed to kill - is who helped him. I think they're in league together. I need your help. I want them both dead, and I want it done soon."

"Why can't you just kill him?"

"He's a Shield Demon, and he has a friend with him who's a Strength Demon. Brocklyn's got two Speed Demons with him at all times, and I don't know who else he's recruited."

Takoda swore, running a hand through his hair. "How do you get yourself into these situations, Ciri?"

"It's a habit," she said with a dry smile. "Can you help me?"

"I'll always help you, Ciri," Takoda said solemly. "What do you need?"

"I need lots of men. Twenty Demons. Send a message to my father, get him to organise a party. Tell them to wait at the plains just North of here. When I'll arrive, I'll give a signal. Then they can blast the hell out of all five of them."

"Which signal?"

"They'll know, don't worry. Just make sure they stay out of sight. I'll also have two others with me. A small blonde girl and a tall, dark haired boy with tanned skin. They're both Demons. I'm not shaking them off, because then I'll be really outnumbered. Just make sure they don't get hit. Brocklyn and his men will be trailing us, so they should be South of where you meet us."

"Okay," Takoda said, making mental notes. "I'll tell him tomorrow. Just don't get yourself killed, Ciri."

Ciri laughed. "It's pretty damn hard to kill me."

"Still carrying around that katana?"

"You bet."

They made their way to the door, before Ciri turned back.

"Just curious, have you seen Trisha lately?"

"Yeah, just a few streets over. Why?" Takoda asked with a frown.

"Just mapping out the Demons in this town. I've run into eight already. And I might need another place to camp out. We're staying at the girl's house for now, but we'll probably be moving soon. If I need a place to hide, I'll need someone I can trust."

"Trisha's the one then," Takoda agreed with a nod. "She'll be able to help you out for sure."

"Thanks," she said, giving him a quick hug.

"Just watch yourself," he said with a concerned look.


	10. Chapter Ten by Jess

ROARKE FELT PROTECTIVE as Ciri left the house, swinging the door closed behind her. He didn't usually let any Demon in his town do something as stupid as she had done now, especially the girls. _What if something happens? _he punished himself. _What if she's hurt? _Despite his worries, Roarke didn't hear any of the tell-tale sounds of an attack, but he refused to let his tense shoulders relax.  
"Why did she leave?" Abby's quiet voice made him jump.  
"Oh. Um. I don't know." Roarke shrugged casually.  
"Oh, well I guess…" Abby's sentence trailed off. "So, I've healed him. Fully. But his brain is still in shock, and I think that's why I can't access it."  
"It's probably because a natural shield was activated when his brain went into overload; to protect him." Roarke frowned, trying to make as much sense of it as he could out of what he knew.  
"Look at you, Roarke," Abby said, leaning forward and smoothing out the deep lines the frown made in his forehead. "I haven't seen you completely sober for nearly 9 months now, Roarke. I think you need to start talking to someone." Abby's voice was soothing, but Roarke found it aggravating.  
"Can you _hear_ yourself, Abby? I. Don't. Need. Sympathy. I thought you of all people would understand that."  
Abby's fragile face crumpled, and she blinked rapidly. "I-I know. But, Roarke, I care about you okay? Just because it seems like no-one else does, doesn't mean I don't." She sniffed, her eyes glistening.  
There was a short silence, Abby's constant sniffs the only interruption.  
Roarke now glanced at Abby, her expression freezing his pacing abruptly. "Abz? Abby?" He looked at her with a tilted head, analyzing her reaction. "I'm really sorry. I-" he sighed. "It's just that I get so worked up; angry. Can you grasp that? I mean, _come_ _on_." He voice began to get steadily louder. "My _dad_ was freaking _murdered_!" Roarke lifted his hands to his head, cradling it. "Ughh! What the _hell_ is my problem?"  
"Dude, your problem is that you're wound so, so tight." The pair spun around as Ace swaggered into the lit hallway. "Anyone got some bourbon handy?"  
"Um, Ace, was it? You need to sit down." Abby flustered around him, attempting to guide him back to the couch. "And I'll go get you a drink-"  
"Oh." Ace exhaled. "Thank you."  
"Of water," Abby finished.  
"Yeah. Sorry honey, but water's not my thing."  
"Well, that's what you're getting, so suck it up." Abby moved to the other side of the house, and filled a glass with tap water. She thrust it into Ace's hands. "Drink up. You'll need 6 of these every day for the next 2 weeks to recover better."  
"Eww. Way to kill my fun."  
"Not my fault you're all blocked up. 'Cuse the pun."  
Ace just glared, looking over at Roarke for support. Roarke shook his head, a smug grin on his face. "You're on your own, man. But I would listen to her if I were you."  
"Whatever. Why are you backing her though? I mean, come on, she's a _girl_. And most likely about two years _younger _than us."  
"Abby," Roarke said sharply, his teeth clenched, "is not just some girl. She's been my friend for almost a year now, so step down. Not like you know anything.""  
"Of course. But I do know one thing. Your father was murdered?" Ace asked innocently.  
"Wait, how long were you listening in, Ace?" Roarke took a few threatening steps in Ace's direction.  
"Long enough, I guess." Ace didn't hide his smirk, no embarrassment present. "Who killed him? I mean, I imagine you would want to avenge this. What do you know?"  
"Look, mate, this is absolutely none of your business. I've only known you for what, 8 _hours_? This is not your territory to tramp in. All I know is that some Rebel group killed him. For what, I don't freaking know. He wasn't even a Demon, okay? He wasn't… even. A. Demon." Roarke crumpled again, this time, his face held murderous rage at his father's killers.  
"What was his name?" Ace looked intently at Roarke.  
"Why would you care?" Roarke glanced down at his feet, sighing. "Ian Byrne."  
"_The_ Ian Byrne?" Roarke looked up at Ace with shock as he registered Ace's recognition at the name.  
"What? You knew him?"  
"You…could say that." Ace's voice took on a wary edge.  
"What do you know?" Roarke growled, pinning Ace to the couch by grabbing onto his shirt. "Tell me."  
"I swear! I don't know anything!" Ace struggled against Roarke's powerful hold, twisting and arching his back.  
"Sure, sure. 'Coz that's why I can feel guilt coursing all through you."  
"Why is it so important, anyway? C'mon man."  
"What's so important? He was my father, you bastard. My _only_ family left. Now tell me, or I'll-"  
"What's going on in here?" A familiar voice came from the hallway. Ciri rounded the corner, smiling at Abby. "Boys…" she complained, seeing the two guys grappling.  
"Ciri! Thank you. Get this pushover _off _me please?" Ace looked pleadingly at Ciri.  
"What's going on?" Ciri asked again.  
"Roarke just got a tad upset because I mentioned I was involved in killing his-" Ace's eyes widened with fear as he realised what he had admitted.  
"What? What! You… I'm gonna seriously kill you now." Roarke exploded, bringing his fist around and hitting Ace squarely in the jaw. Another round of blows hit him, each one becoming less painful as his jaw numbed with the impact.  
Roarke could hear Abby screaming at him to stop; her pulling at the back of his shirt. He barely felt her feeble attempts to stop him, and he knew that that would be all she tried to do, being frightened of his undeniable power. Ace squirmed, but what little strength he had had faded, leaving him defenseless and winded.  
Roarke began to swing yet again, but a strong force grabbed his arm before he could bring it down. He snapped out of his trance, surprised, and spun around. A pair of depthless black eyes stared at him, challenging him. Rem stood back, releasing Roarke's arm as he slumped, slowly coming to realisation at what he had just succummed to.  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he moaned, seemingly talking to himself, rocking back and forth in a crouch.  
"Roarke, get up." Abby placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and attempted to lift him into a standing position.  
"No," he replied with a sudden anger. "I can't _believe_ myself," he mumbled again.  
Ciri clapped her hands, asking for attention. "Guys, we really have to get out of here. I've organised an ambush on the plains for Brocklyn and we have," she glanced at her watch, "twenty minutes to get there."  
Rem dragged Roarke to his feet, looping one of his arms over his shoulder. Abby looked uncertain, not entirely understanding.  
"Oh, and while you're about it, mind healing the idiot?" Ciri asked Aibhlin, looking at Ace with disgust.  
"I'll-I'll try." Abby swallowed. "The first time drained my energy a bit, so I'll just see if I can." She hurried back to the couch Ace was lying on, groaning.  
Ciri, tightening her belt that contained her knives, waited impatiently as the group gathered.  
Ace, still conscious, but barely, staggered behind Abby and leaned against the door frame.  
"Ok. Whatever your issues are, put them aside. We have to be quiet. Really, quiet. We don't need trackers, got it?" Ciri stared hard at each person. "I'm sick of being followed, so don't, and I mean, _don't,_ stuff up."  
Ciri pulled the front door open for a second time that night, and slipped out, the others following closely, Roarke bringing up the rear to stay as far as possible from Ace.  
"Ok. Let's go," Ciri whispered, not turning around. "And _someone_ get the invalid a stiff drink."


	11. Chapter Eleven by Ash

CIRI BIT HER lip, nervous. So many things could go wrong...  
And what about the Demons? Would they be where she asked them to be?  
Of course they would. Both Takoda and her father trusted her word, even if they didn't have all the details.  
What would happen when they got there? Would they just outright attack Ace and Rem? Or attempt to capture them?  
She had made it clear that she wanted them dead, but would her father override her request?  
"So," Ace said, breaking the awkward silence and bringing Ciri back to Earth. "Who's the baldy?"  
Ciri narrowed her eyes, but didn't turn back to look at him. He already knew who Brocklyn was and he was playing dumb. Smart move.  
"Samuel Brocklyn. Where did you meet?"  
"He attacked Rem and me in the apartment we were staying in," Ace said angrily. "Held knives to our throats and all. I still have bruises on my arm from where his Speed Demon buddies held me."  
He lifted his sleeve, and Ciri glanced back to see the red marks surrounding his upper arm.  
So he wasn't in league with Brocklyn.  
Horror filled Ciri, and she forced herself to inhale. When they caught Brocklyn and his men, they would be tortured, then put to death, and only the latter if the Council was feeling forgiving. It was the regular punishment for conspiring against the Council.  
But Ace was innocent. At least for treason. He was still involved in the murder of a human.  
The punishment for murder was lifetime imprisonment, not death. She was putting Ace to death.  
Her mouth suddenly dry, Ciri scanned the horizon for signs of the ambush squad. Only dehydrated trees and brown earth met her penetrating gaze.  
"Ace," she said, fighting to keep her voice from wavering. "Put up a shield."  
"You think Brocklyn is following us?"  
"Yeah," she said quietly. It was half of the truth.  
A shield sprung up around them, almost invisible in the sunrise.  
Guilt was tugging at Ciri, and she licked her lips, trying to ignore it.  
"Are you okay?" Roarke asked, looking concerned.  
Of course. Animal instincts. He could sense her guilt.  
"No," she said quietly. "I-"  
Figures rose from the shadows, raising guns and aiming at them. They were going for the kill-on-sight technique.  
"Aim! Fire!" a voice shouted, and the gunmen fired.  
"Ace!" Ciri shouted, running to his side.  
"Who the hell are these guys? Friends of Brocklyn's?" Ace said angrily, checking his shield. Bullets ricocheted off his shield, but the gunmen didn't pause.  
"No, they're from the Council. I called them here," Ciri confessed.  
"You what?" Ace yelped.  
"Hold your shield!" Ciri shrieked.  
Ace doubled its strength, before turning back to her. "You called them here?"  
"I thought you were working with Brocklyn. He's had it in for me since I caught him."  
"Oh, brilliant," Ace snarled, running a hand through his hair. "So they're trying to kill me? Can't you tell them to stop?"  
"They wouldn't hear me over their guns. I'm a Sight Demon, not a Sound Demon," Ciri said, agitated.  
"So what's your plan for escape?"  
Ciri inhaled, thinking. "You can't hold them forever. We need to get them away."  
She chuckled, not believing how insane her plan was.  
"What?"  
"You ever produced a Force Wall?" she asked him. She'd only seen a Force Wall performed a few times, but she knew of its power when produced by a skilled Deflection Demon. It was a shield that expanded rapidly when released, knocking objects in its path flying.  
"Once or twice," Ace said slowly. "But only a few metres."  
"Well, third time's the charm," she said. "I need you to make a Force Wall. Make sure your shield's up. I need to talk with some people."  
She walked up to the shield barrier, facing a group of men.  
She might not be able to talk verbally, but signs were just as good. She used her Sight to create a sign.  
_Hold your fire_.  
Immediately, all gunfire ceased.  
Ciri ran back to Ace.  
"You need to shift your shield. It'll be strongest if you're the only one inside it."  
"You want me to set off a Force Wall with you _outside_?" Ace said, disbelief lining his tone.  
"Just do it!" Ciri snapped. "Don't hold back. If you hold back, you'll make it too weak."  
"You'd better make sure you don't get yourself killed," Ace said, and Ciri could hear genuine concern in his voice.  
Ciri nodded, stepping back as Ace dropped his first shield, creating a newer, smaller one around him.  
"Get down," Ace ordered.  
"Rem!" Ciri screamed across the plain at the three figures standing dumbfounded. "Hold them down!"  
Rem nodded, jerking Roarke and Abby down and shielding them with his body, digging his hands into the ground. As a Strength Demon, he had the most chance of being to hold himself in place.  
Ace gasped, perspiration beading on his forehead as he compressed the air into a tight circle around him.  
"Ciri," he shouted, and she turned to face him. "Find cover."  
She gave a sharp nod, sprinting for a small cliffside. She leapt over, scrambling backwards and pressing her back into the earth. She shoved her heels against some scattered rocks, clamping her hands over her ears and squeezing her eyes shut.

ACE'S BODY ACHED and his head screamed with agony. He couldn't hold the shield any longer.  
He flung his arms out, and the wall of air tore across the plain, uprooting all vegetation in its path. A metre of earth was tossed into the air.  
His vision faded, everything blurring and darkening

CIRI'S HAIR BLEW past her, flicking sharply in her face as she gasped at the raw power Ace wielded. The rocks were torn from beneath her feet, and she turned onto her stomach, hands clawing into the earth until she found a sturdy object to cling to.

ABBY CLIMBED TO her feet, face streaked with dirt and hands trembling.  
Ace had collapsed, surrounded by three miles of bare earth.  
She glanced at Roarke, whose face was also patched with dirt.  
Rem staggered to his feet, small scratches and bruises lining his arms.  
"Where's Ciri?" Abby demanded, worry clutching her.  
"Over here," Roarke said, helping her up.  
Her hair was a complete mess and there were scratches all over her arms and face. A small gash ran down her leg, blood slowly trickling over her skin.  
Abby rushed over as Ciri lowered herself down onto the ground.  
"Let me get that," Abby said, kneeling down and pressing her palms against the girl's leg.  
"Where's Ace?" Ciri asked, swiping some blood from her face.  
"He's over there," Roarke replied, pointing to the unconscious form.  
She sucked in a shaky breath, and Abby saw guilt flicker across her face as her eyes filled with concern.  
"There," Abby said, exhaling and releasing Ciri.  
"Heal him," Ciri ordered.  
Abby nodded, running to Ace's side.  
His skin was pale and he seemed unconscious, but he seemed unhurt physically. So far.  
She rolled him onto his back, and noticed the blood trickling from his lip. She opened his mouth gently, and saw that he had bitten right through his tongue, obviously unaware of what he had been doing.  
She could heal that.  
Abby placed her index and middle fingers on each side of his jaw, breathing deeply.  
Healing refreshed her, cleared her mind, helping her focus only on the needs of the patient.  
She pulled away, checking his mouth, satisfied that he had been fixed.  
His hands were stained red, and Abby frowned, checking them. A large hole had been punched through each palm, spewing blood.  
Deflection Demons drew their power from their brain, pumping it through their nerves and out through their skin. Normally it didn't cause any physical wound, but Ace had used a tonne suddenly, without warming up. He had drawn power through his brachial plexus and shot it through his median nerve, before pumping it out of his palm. She knew from her medical journals that the median nerve was intertwined with the brachial artery. He must have put it under pressure, and when the power had burst through his skin, it must have shattered with it.  
Luckily, he was unconscious, so he wouldn't be feeling its affects.  
Abby linked her fingers with his, palm to palm, and clamped the other hand around his wrist.  
Arteries weren't really her specialty. She usually passed out after reconstructing a main artery, and the brachial artery was the main vessel in the arm.  
She clenched her teeth and prayed that she'd stay conscious long enough to heal Ace before he bled to death.


	12. Chapter Twelve by Jess

Abby's head was swirling, a thick fog beginning to cloud her vision. Her shoulders slumped and she fell back to the dirt as she finished healing Ace's other palm. This was weird. Usually she would be a lot worse than this. A _lot _worse_._ Basically, unconscious. Dead to the world. Abby inspected herself through the grey haze. Apart from a few cuts and bruises from Ace's power surge, she was totally unharmed. The only rational explanation Abby could think of for this was that she had just past her Coming. It was the time in which all Healers doubled their power. But that was impossible. Her seventeenth birthday wasn't until tomorrow, so it made no sense. Unless… Abby couldn't help wondering if all this Demon activity and Healing could have triggered it earlier. This had never been heard of before though. Not in all the 1500 years _real _Healers were around.

She rose cautiously to her feet, experimenting with her stability. Despite her trembling hands, the rest of her body stood firm, not wavering at all. Abby glanced around the barren plain, surprised that the opposing men had not come back to again. Her eyes fell on the battered group; the distant houses shimmering in the morning heat. Roarke was tending to Rem's apparent lack of control over his arms, and Rem refusing to comply, his hands flapping at his sides. Ciri was mumbling something about a failed ambush; betrayal. Ace was finally coming to his senses at Abby's feet, groaning and clutching his middle tightly. Abby reached down, meaning to help him up to his feet. Roarke was suddenly at her side, appearing out of thin air. "Don't touch him," he said angrily, his teeth clenched together. "I'll help him."

Abby arched her perfect eyebrows, but didn't say anything. Just a moment ago, Roarke had been off himself because of Ace's statement. And now he wanted to help? Abby shook her head, disbelief of her friend's actions threatening to take over. Being a Healer, Abby was always in touch with others' emotions. Subconsciously, she was pulled into one of her memories.

"_Roarkeee," Abby whined, tugging playfully on the older boy's shirt. "You promised!"_

"_Fine." Roarke lifted the petite Abby onto his broad shoulders, carrying her towards the garage. "But only for a few minutes. I have to get back to work on that essay." _

_They were young, juniors in high school. Roarke had just turned 16, making the gap between their ages a rare time of two years. Abby was still a child, Roarke, however, more man-like than anything. He could've been 18 in most people's eyes; his arm and back muscles going beyond what most would expect in a grown, average human man. _

_back muscles going beyond what most would expect in a grown, average human man. _

"_Okay, do you want me to hold it for the first few times?" Roarke looked at Abby with an amused expression._

"_Um," she replied uncertainly, "yeah?" _

_Despite being 14, Abby had never learnt to ride a bike. Having Roarke around like the big brother she never had, she had decided to try. _

_Roarke helped her swing her leg over the pink bike which, embarassingly, had pink tassles on the handlebars. "Let's just stay in the drive, shall we?" Roarke laughed. Abby mumbled a reply._

"_I'll give you a bit of a push, to get started, then you start peddling, okay?" He demonstrated by giving the bike a shove, while holding on the the back of the saddle._

"_Roarke! Roarke!" Abby panicked, despite the warning. Roarke guffawed, steadying her._

"_Right. You ready? You have to keep peddling, or else you're gonna fall off, okay?" _

_He seemed to be saying 'okay' a lot. To Abby, it was not 'okay'. She took a deep breath and balanced herself as best she could. "Ready."_

Abby snapped back into the present. Ace was up on his feet and she took pride in her skills of healing. Glancing around, she caught Roarke just as he was shifting into his Eagle. He was most likely going to scout around, to see if their attackers were gone. Although, Ciri was mumbling something about a failed ambush? Did she know those men? Abby frowned, not liking all the secrecy maintained by the girl. It was Abby's nature, however, to look past that. _She hardly knows us, after all, _she reasoned. Abby gazed upwards, squinting her eyes against the harsh sun and dust still swirling around. Roarke's magnificent Eagle form soared above, just coasting on the air currents; an image of ease. Roarke had that calming presence around him, one that made you trust him, and let you feel safe when near him. Abby subconsciously touched her stomach, where a crystal hung from her belly ring. Set in a flawless, clear quartz stone, was a soaring silver eagle token, given to her by Roarke, last year. Abby was transported back in time; the school dance, one which Roarke had been forced to attend due to his shifty school record.

"_Why'd ya ask me again?" Abby looked to Roarke for an explaination. They were sitting at one of the tables on the edge of the dance floor, Abby watching with a transfixed expression as the 12__th__ form danced, all swirling colours and laughter._

"_Who else would've come with me? I'm sure none of the girls in my grade would ever even consider saying yes to the guy with a criminal record." He smiled tightly. "You look beautiful, by the way," he added on, wrapping an arm around Abby's slight shoulders._

_Abby's heart skipped a beat, and she smiled at him, taking in all of his tux-clad body, rippled with his musclular arms. His tanned skin shone in the low lighting, his gold eyes sparkling with emotion. Suddenly her eyes widened, and she shook her head, attempting to clear it. _Roarke is my friend. My brother. My brother.

"_What?" Roarke said, looking concerned. "You do. Absolutely. Better than all these _old_ girls." He laughed, misunderstanding._

"_I'm getting a drink," Abby said, standing up hastily._

"_Okay." Roarke frowned, seeming confused._

"_I'm just thirsty." Abby walked off, towards the table holding a mixture that looked suspiciously like punch. She took deep, steadying breaths, not trusting herself to glance backwards. She didn't need to. Roarke's strong grip encased her upper arm, and he spun her towards him. _

"_What, Abby? What's wrong?" Always so perceptive. One of the annoying things about him. In fact, the only. He was perfect, otherwise._

"_I'm just," she hesitated. "I'm just feeling a bit, like, out of place?" She covered up the truth with a half lie._

"_What? No. Come on. Dance with me." Roarke moved his hand from her arm and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the dance floor of squirming bodies. _

_Roarke twirled her around, before wrapping his arms around her. They swayed in unison, at a friendly distance. Depsite the lack of intimacy, having Roarke's body this close to her was messing with her head._

_Roarke cleared his throat, drawing Abby's attention away from where she was staring at a cute couple dancing next to them. "Abby, you're my best friend, my sister." Abby glanced away from his piercing gaze guiltily. _

"_Yeah, well you're mine too. My brother, though." She looked back at him._

_Roarke chuckled softly. "Well, I was going to give you this at your Coming, but that's like, ages away."_

"_It's only a year," Abby cut in._

"_Still," Roarke countered. He drew his hands away and went digging in the pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a small blue box, and Abby's heart jumped, for the second time in the space of a couple of minutes. She _had_ to get that under control. "Here. I hope you like it." He smiled, and passed it over to Abby, who took it delicately in her petitie hands._

"_What is it?"_

"_You have to open it, silly." Roarke closed his massive hands over her's, and helped her open the box. Lying on a pillow of blue velvet, was a silver token, intricately shaped as a tiny soaring eagle. Abby stared, not trusting herself to speak just yet._

_After swallowing hard, she said, "It's- It's beautiful, Roarke." She stretched up on her toes and pecked him lightly on the cheek. "I love it."_

_Roarke was looking at her with wide eyes, an unfathomable expression on his face._

"_I- I'm sorry." Abby glanced down at her heel-clad feet. "I didn't mean-" _

"_No." He cleared his throat. Twice. "No, it's fine. Really." Roarke grinned widely. "You want me to keep that for you, until we go home?"_

"_Um, yea, thanks." Abby handed the closed box back to him._

"_Come, let's just dance." Roarke took her in his arms again._

_Abby was suddenly feeling extremely tired…_

Abby's cheeks warmed, ignoring the fact that it _was_ extremely hot and may have just been the heat getting to her.

"Magnificent," she said aloud, referring again to Roarke's beauty.

"What?" Abby jumped as Ciri walked up behind her. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, er, nothing." Abby looked away, back up to the sky. "Just, you know, the sky, and the amazing, um, clouds."

"Okay." Ciri must have thought Abby was on something. "We'll be moving on soon, just thought you should know."

"Cool, thanks."

Roarke breathed in the tangible freedom he felt when he was in his Eagle form. High above the plain, he could see everything. His sharp Eagle eyes could even detect his house, far away on the other side of the plain, nestled high up in the cliffs.

The was no sign of their offenders, and Roarke admired them for their ability to conceal themselves on such a barren stretch of land. He looked down on his wary, damaged group.

Ace was perciptively moaning about something, gesturing wildly to Ciri with his injured hands. Ciri was doing her best to- wait. Well. That was new. Roarke sensed a bondage between Ciri and Ace, although the two didn't know of it yet. Which brought him to Abby. What was he going to do with her? She was sitting alone, gazing up at him as he soared high above. Even since that dance last year, he could not stop thinking about her. In that way. You know. They'd been friends for so long, and the death of Roarke's father had brought them even closer. How could he possibly show Abby how he feels? It would just be awkward. He knew she didn't feel that way. She saw him as her older brother, nothing more. Telling her would most likely destroy their close friendship. Roarke heaved a sigh and lingered in the air before beginning his decent. _Scratch that, _he thought, and pulled his wings in tight, launching into a spiraling dive, and leveling out a few metres above the ground. He shifted when he was floating 2 metres above the hard-packed dirt of the plain, and fell the rest of the way down, landing lightly on the balls of his feet, like a cat.

"We need to get moving," he said, risking a glance at Abby. She looked up at him, before going back to grinding a rock against the ground.

"Just what I said," Ciri commented, attempting authority. "We should aim to get to a friend of mine's place. She's on the Council. She'll know where to go from there."

"Where does she live?" Roarke asked, curious to know of other Demons in permanent residence.

"Other side of your town, actually."

"Oh. Why don't I know of her then? All Demons in this town should report to me."

"Like I said, she's on the Council. She doesn't have to abide to the Law of Location."

"Great."

"Cyrilla, my girl!" Patrisha opened the door wider, providing more room to enter the quaint house. "And you've brought friends, I see."

"Yes." Ciri replied slightly stiffly, knowing that Ace was well sought-after by the Council. She was wary of what they may do to him, and she wanted to keep his identity a secret for now.

"Ooh, he's a handsome one, this one is," Trisha commented, looking at Roarke.

"Who is?" a voice asked, emerging from the shadows behind her.

"Takoda!" Ciri launched herself towards the boy, knocking the breath out of him as she gave him a constricting hug.

"Yes, Cyrilla, I should have called you to ask you to come visit. Takoda's staying with me for a bit. Work duties, and things.

"Exactly why we're here."


	13. Chapter Thirteen by Ash

CIRI STARED AT the ceiling, a flickering slideshow of images playing on the peeling white paint.  
"Regretting something?" a voice said, and she sat up quickly, startled. Takoda stood in the doorway, smiling at her. He looked so professional in his white formal shirt, black jeans and boots that Ciri couldn't help but smile back.  
"A few things," she replied, moving aside so that he could sit down next to her. He lowered himself down, not meeting her eyes.  
"It's Ace, isn't it?"  
She didn't reply.  
"You like him, don't you?" Takoda asked quietly.  
"No," Ciri replied quickly, and regretted it.  
Takoda gave a gentle chuckle. "You're lying."  
Ciri bit her lip, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. "I don't know why. He's a criminal, and I'm supposed to be dragging his corpse to the council by now. I mean, I hated him the moment I saw him, so why should I feel like this now?"  
"I can't tell the truth unless I already know it."  
"I know," Ciri replied with a sigh. "I just don't like going into things blind, and you know that."  
"Not everyone gets to see how their life's going to turn out before it happens," Takoda said with a laugh. "Some of us have to just take it step by step. You should try it too."  
Ciri nodded slowly.  
"Speaking of visions," Takoda said, a little more sternly. "Have you been taking your medication?"  
"No," she replied, and recieved a glare from him. "But I haven't slept for two days straight, so I haven't been needing it."  
"And I presume that you don't have any on you tonight?"  
"I thought I was going to have killed Ace and got home in time to take my meds, but it didn't work out. So no, I don't."  
Takoda sighed. "Are you going to be okay without them?"  
Ciri bit her lip. "I hope so. I'll live, but I probably won't sleep much."  
"Well, try to," he soothed, his caramel eyes warming up. "And don't worry about the whole Ace-thing. You'll work it out."  
"Thanks," she said, giving him a quick hug.  
"No problem," he replied, leaving the room.

ACE KNOCKED GENTLY on Ciri's door, and receiced an invitation to enter. He pushed on the white wood, his eyes immediately falling onto Ciri. She was dressed in a simple white tank top and dark grey pajama pants, her chestnut brown hair falling around her shoulders. In her hands she held a novel entitled '_Spirit Bound_' as she leaned against the bedhead.  
"Can I help you?" she prompted, not looking up from her book.  
"I overheard some of your conversation with Takoda earlier," he began delicately. Her eyes snapped up to meet his.  
"How much did you overhear?"  
"Not too much," he said vaguely, and she narrowed her eyes.  
"Which part?"  
"The visions part." Not entirely a lie. Not entirely the truth either.  
She closed her book. "Yes?" she said cautiously.  
"You take meds?"  
She hesitated, before nodding. "I take them before I go to sleep. They stop my visions."  
"What visions?"  
She sighed, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Some powerful Sight Demons have been able to call up images, often of the future, at will. It's not well known among Demons, but my Mother had it, and I do too. My power isn't as strong as hers. As with Healing Demons, we reach a certain age and our power doubles, but our Coming is later on. She would often sort the truth from the lies in court cases, calling up images of the wrongdoings to see if the accused was innocent or guilty. I get images in my sleep, instead of dreams."  
"Why do you take pills to stop them? Wouldn't it be helpful to see what's coming?"  
Ciri averted her gaze. "The last vision I had was of my Mother's death."  
"Oh."  
"I would have visions when I was four, five. Always of deaths. Murders, suicides, accidents. I don't ever remember not having a death-vision. As I grew older, they began to affect me more, and I began to grow more depressed. I took the pills to stop the visions and therefore the depression, but also so I couldn't predict who was going to die. I didn't want to see those I loved killed."  
Ace swallowed, feeling guilty about bringing such an uncomfortable subject up. "My mother died a few years after I was born. My father died during a gang shoot-out. I was fifteen. I dropped out of high school and joined my old man's club. I pretty much made them my family."  
"And then you went and killed Roarke's father," she said coldly.  
"Hey, you know nothing about that," he shot back. "_He_ killed _my_ father. I was just returning the favour."  
Ciri rolled her eyes. "My father is on the High Council."  
Ace straightened, narrowing his eyes. The High Council was the ruling government of the Demon Council. They designed the laws and decided which Demons would enforce them and which Demons would guard the prisoners.  
"My mother was too," she added with a ghost of a smile. "When I reach seventeen, I'm supposed to join them."  
"I thought you had to be at least twenty-one to be on the High Council."  
She smiled bitterly. "You don't know what my last name is, do you?"  
"No."  
"My full name is Cyrilla Adele Nostredame. I was named after my mother and take my surname from my ancestor Jean de Nostredame. He was the younger brother of Nostradamus. We are a long line of prophets, and often have our Comings earlier than other prophets. Due to this, we are able to secure seats on the High Council at very young ages."  
"So you're powers are going to double when you reach seventeen?"  
"That's what my father is planning on. Personally, having nightmares at night is enough. Having visions during the day...it's going to be hell."  
He smiled, perching on the edge of the bed. "I think you're powerful enough. I've only known you for two days, and you surpassed Christian."  
She frowned, and he shook his head.  
"Sorry. Christian is a member of my club. He's a Sight Demon, but I don't think he's a descendant of Nostradamus."  
"I'll have to meet him sometime."  
Ace hesitated, not sure how to proceed. "I heard more of your conversation. Earlier than the visions part."  
Ciri sucked in a sharp breath. Ace couldn't help but smile.  
"Apparently, you like me."  
She glared, not meeting his gaze. "It's rude to eavesdrop," she whispered, closing her eyes.  
He cocked his head to one side, smiling. He leaned in suddenly, and completely unexpectantly and impulsively kissed her.  
Her eyes sprung open with shock, before she responded, kissing him back. He chuckled, pulling away. Ciri stared at him, eyes wide and shocked. They weren't their usual blue. They had a green and gold flecked ring around the pupil.  
"Your eyes..."  
She raised a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes, before opening them. They were their usual blue. She had dropped her guard, Ace realised. She hid her eyes with her power.  
"Goodnight, Ace," she said, and he rose, moving over to her door.  
He glanced back at her as he left, and caught her smiling.

CIRI SWUNG UP onto the kitchen counter, and Takoda jumped, dropping his spoon. It fell into his bowl, spraying milk and cereal all over the counter.  
"Someone's happy," he commented as she beamed down at him. "Which is...unusual."  
"I have a right to be happy," she retorted, tossing her hair back. "I didn't have any visions last night."  
Takoda - having attempted to eat his cereal - dropped his spoon again. "Can I ask why?"  
"You can, but I won't answer," she replied evasively, slipping off the counter.  
"Did you try alcohol?" he guessed. "Oh God, please don't tell me you tried drugs."  
She laughed. "No. Ace kissed me."  
Takoda choked on his cereal. He lowered his spoon, coughing. "Care to run that by me again?"  
"You heard me the first time. And you can tell I'm not lying."  
He pushed his bowl away, not trusting himself. "Anything else you'd like to tell me?"  
"No, that's about it." Ciri smiled, slipping two pieces of bread into the toaster. "What are we doing today?"  
"Well, I presume that you don't want to arrest Ace, so I guess that means we have to hide him from any council members."  
"That's settled. I can do that on my own."  
Takoda pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going home then, if that's okay with-"  
A loud shout split the quiet morning air, and the two Demons spun around.  
"That was-"  
"Ace!" Ciri shouted, bolting for his room. She passed a startled Trisha in the hall, and froze in the doorway to Ace's room.  
His window had been smashed in, and glass littered the carpeted floor. Ace was lying on the floor, unconcious. A second figure was straightening up, turning to face her, a baseball bat in his hand. Ace's wrists were handcuffed behind his back.  
"Hey, Ciri," Greg said with a smile. "Long time no see."  
Takoda jerked to a stop behind her.  
"And Takoda, too. So good to see you again."  
"What are you doing?" Ciri asked numbly.  
"Arresting a murderer," Greg replied. "Ashton Kelly was convicted of the murder of Ian Byrne. After you didn't show up with him, I was sent out. So here I am."  
"How did you find us?"  
"I grew up in the same class as you. I know your mind inside and out. Why didn't you arrest him?"  
"I did," she said angrily. "He was under my supervision. I was in need of rest, so I retired to Patrisha's house. She's a council member. I also called in a second council member for supervision." Ciri guestured to Takoda. "I was going to hand him over to the council tomorrow. Something wrong with that?"  
"Why didn't you hand him in the first night you saw him?"  
"I ran into an old acquiantance."  
Greg raised his eyebrow.  
"Samuel Brocklyn."  
Greg shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I've been ordered to take him to the Council Chambers, and escort you there, too. I've also been told to bring in anyone accompanying you."  
"Takoda, Abby, Roarke and Trisha," Ciri said, purposely excluding Rem. She didn't doubt that he would be imprisoned if he was debriefed by the Coucil.  
"Fine."  
"What are we waiting for, then?"

ACE'S BACK WAS faintly numb with cold. He groaned, the back of his head aching. He went to push himself up with his hands, and cried out in pain.  
Ace clenched his teeth, sitting up. He was on a metal table, bare from the waist up. His wrists were secured to the table, as were his ankles. A cylinderical metal bar had been forced through each of his palms, just above his thumb muscles.  
Why the hell would someone put a piece of metal through his hand?  
He froze, before concentrating on creating a shield, forcing the surrounding air to compress into a wall. Pain shot up his arm, smothering his hand.  
He let out a cry, clenching his eyes shut.  
Oh. That was why.  
It was to prevent him creating shields. It would render his power useless, and so he would be as defenseless as an average human.  
Ace swore, tugging experimentally on the manacle around his right hand.  
"Come on," he muttered. "Give, give, give."  
He knew it wouldn't though. He was within the Council Chambers, and these walls held the majority of Demon criminals. They had been incarcerating Demons since the sixteenth century. They knew every escape technique.  
Anger reared up in him, and he tugged more vigorously on his restraints, swearing as he went.  
"Please refrain from pulling on your restraints," a female voice said over the speaker.  
"Screw you!" Ace shot back.  
"Please lie down," the female voice said with more force.  
Ace ignored her.  
Something hard slammed into his abdomen, throwing him onto his back. He choked, winded, as footsteps moved towards him.  
A smug smile loomed over him, accompanied by two shining brown eyes. Black curls of hair framed a dark face.  
She chuckled quietly, standing casually next to him.  
"When Carrie asks you to lie down, she usually wants you to lie down," the young woman said.  
Ace glared at her, finding his breath again.  
"Who the hell are you?" he snapped, and the hard object - a shield, he now realised - disappeared from over his stomach.  
"That's for me to know and for you to never find out," she replied.  
"You're a Shield Demon," he said slowly.  
"Yep, just like you," she said, flicking back a strand of hair.  
He narrowed his eyes. "You look familiar."  
"Why? We've never met before."  
Ace shrugged.  
The woman raised her head, before turning back to him. "You have a guest. This time, stay down, okay?"  
She let out a short laugh, before leaving the room.  
Ciri appeared at his side, black katana on her hip.  
"You okay?" she asked.  
"Apart from two poles being shoved through my hands and being hit in the back of the head with a baseball bat - yeah, I'm fine," Ace said, irritated.  
"We around here don't like to give prisoners a chance to test out their powers on their surroundings."  
"So I see. Who was that woman? I'm sure I've seen her before..."  
"That was Adie. She's the twin sister of Trisha. They're both Shield Demons."  
Ace nodded in understanding.  
"You have a court hearing," Ciri said quietly.  
"A court hearing? What, you need a professional ceremony to announce my punishment?" Ace said.  
Ciri glared.  
"When?" Ace sighed.  
"Five minutes."  
"Five minutes?" Ace said in disbelief.  
"Hurry up - I don't have long. Any more questions?"  
"Where's Rem?"  
"He wasn't seen by the Council member. He got away."  
"Who hit me?"  
"Gregory," Ciri answered, her lips thinning in annoyance. So she didn't like this guy obviously.  
"No last name?"  
"Not allowed," Ciri replied shortly.  
Ace rolled his eyes. "What about Roarke and Abby?"  
"They were debriefed and released."  
"So I'm the only one who gets imprisoned?"  
Ciri glanced over her shoulder, before raising her eyes skyward. "I have to go," she said regretfully.  
"Any pointers you can give me for my big court day?" Ace said sarcastically.  
"Don't make smart remarks," Ciri said, frowning. "Don't speak unless spoken to. Don't suggest anything violent or it will be used against you. Foreman was the judge at Brocklyn's court session, and chose his punishment based on the fact that Brocklyn made a comment that even if they locked him up, he'd still spill secrets via his Thoughts. Foreman sewed his mouth shut with the answer that, 'It's all you'll need to use to speak then'."  
"Thanks. I'll try to keep that in mind."  
"I'll be at the hearing, and I'll see you after it," Ciri assured him, before leaving him.

THE COURTROOM WAS massive. There were no pews, only a judge's stand and the accused's stand. Two Shield Demons lined the doorway, pulling up a wall as soon as he was led in. A set of Speed Demons and Pursuation Demons lined each wall, with Strength Demons as guards at his stand.  
The judge sat behind a desk on a raised platform. A golden placque on the wooden desktop read _Jeremy Foreman_.  
Ace was led to the chair on his stand. He sat down, eyes flickering around until they spotted Ciri. She was standing near a door on the far left, eyes flickering between Foreman and him.  
"Let the court hearing of Ashton Kelly begin," Foreman announced.

CIRI MOVED QUIETLY through the corridors, eyes picking up everything; who was guarding which hallway, who was chatting with whom, how many people were clustered around each exit.  
"Hey, Adie," she called pleasantly to the guard.  
"Hey, Ciri," the dark woman replied, flashing her a smile. "What's up?"  
"I'm taking this shift," she announced casually, earning a frown from Adie. "My father wanted me to have something to do until my next assignment."  
"Sweet," she replied with a shrug. "Have fun."  
Ciri took her post, watching until Adie disappeared around the corner. She exhaled, mentally switchng to view the security guard's vision. Carrie's eyes were flickering between the eleven screens before her, intent and focused. Ciri fixed Ace's picture on the screen with her power, before slipping inside. Now she could move around unseen.  
Ace sat up when he saw her. She raised a finger to her lips, and he nodded. She could affect sight easily. She couldn't affect sound.  
She unlocked Ace's manacles, and he slid off the table. She led him out of the room, closing the door behind them.  
Ciri slung her backpack off her shoulder, pulling out two rolls of white bandages. "I'm going to slide the metal poles out of your hands. Hold still."  
She pulled them out as gently as she could, before wrapping them in bandages. She knew general first aid, but he was going to need Abby to heal him.  
She slid her black hoodie off, handing it to him. "Put it on and keep your hands in the pockets. Wait here until you hear a commotion, then go out the exit around the corner, to your left. If you follow the edge of the building, you should come to a garage. I've phoned Roarke, so he should be waiting there. Pick a car and _get away from here_. Okay? Drive to Vegas or somewhere flashy. Go somewhere busy and crowded. There's a credit card in the jumper pocket. If anyone asks why you're here, you're guarding this cell. I've already gotten rid of Adie."  
"Anything else?" he asked, smiling slightly.  
"Yeah," she replied, standing on her toes and kissing him. She broke off quickly, flashing him a smile. "Don't get caught."  
She ran off down the corridor, praying that things would all go to plan.  
Halfway to the dormitories, she ran in Jay. They had attended school on the Council grounds when they were younger, and he had been a constant pain to her. Her unusual eyes - due to her being a Sight Demon - and her midnight visions, which she would awaken screaming from, had made her a target for bullies. Jay had been somewhat of a ring leader, and she still resented him for it. Time he repaid her.  
"Jay, just the guy I was looking for," she said, smiling. "I was wondering if you and some of the others wanted to play a game of Night Hunter."  
He shrugged. "Sure. Who do you want to play?"  
"I don't know...Pauline? Josh, Trent, Greg? Susie? A few of those people. I'll meet you in the training room in five minutes, okay?"  
"Okay," he said, excitement surfacing in his voice as he sprinted off to find the others.

CIRI PULLED HER hair back into a ponytail, before fastening her belt around her waist. Her katana bumped gently against her hips as she surveyed her opponents. There were six Demons in total.  
Jay, a Sound Demon, armed with a sword. Pauline, a Speed Demon, armed with a bow and arrow. Josh and Trent, two Shifting Demons - like Roarke - each holding an arm-length dagger. Susie, a small blonde girl who specialised in quarterstaffs, was an Intelligence Demon.  
Greg, who had attacked Ace with a baseball bat, now held a sword. He was a Speech Demon, able to translate anything written or said into any language, even those that were considered extinct. It wasn't a very useful skill in fights, and he didn't specialise in swords. He prefered blunt weapons, like quarterstaffs and baseball bats.  
They were all dressed in black, which made it all the more harder in the game. The aim was to capture all of your opponents, and force them to surrender, an act which was referred to as 'dying'. The last one still 'alive' was the winner. It was played in the training room, a massive indoor arena full of trees and shrubs that were as thick as a rain forest. There was a single light at the centre of the ceiling, casting an imitation of moonlight onto the dense, tree-clogged field below. The only fully lit area was the weapons shed, which they were standing in now.  
"We all know the rules," Jay said, stepping forwards. "If you die, you return here. Last one alive wins. Ready?"  
They all moved to the border of the shed, where the first patches of grass met the concrete floor.  
"Set? Go!"  
The team of six launched themselves into the darkness, but Ciri held back slightly, trailing one person in particular.  
She followed him silently, breathing as gently as possible. He paused on a tree branch, a few metres off the ground. Ciri inhaled, closing her eyes briefly, before leaping towards a branch halfway between her tree and his. Her hands closed on the wood, and she swung, kicking out at the boy.  
Greg lost his balance, falling to the floor, and landing on his back, winding himself. In one fluid movement, she landed on a lower branch, drawing her sword with her right hand. She dropped down, landing on the ground in a crouch, right hand outstretched as her left slammed into the dirt, absorbing part of the impact.  
Greg gave a soft cry, and Ciri jerked her sword out of his upper abdomen, kneeling beside him. She leaned in next to his ear, and whispered, "That was for Ace."  
His eyes glazed over as she stood up, sheathing her sword.  
She walked back to where they had started from. She had no more reason to stay here. Her goal had been to kill Greg, and she had accomplished it. Let the others finish their game. She had other business to finish.  
Ciri was within twenty metres of the weapons shed when she felt the presence behind her. She spun around, drawing her sword, which clashed with another.  
"Cyrilla Nostredame," Jay said, his voice wraught with slight horror, but understanding of its duty. "You are hereby arrested for the murder of Gregory Marshall. If you resist, force can and will be used to restrain you. Anything you say can be used against you in court."  
She had two options, fight or hand herself in. Fleeing was not an option. And it was emphasized when Pauline appeared at Jay's shoulder. A Speed Demon could beat her in any getaway. Handing herself in would make everyone come to her. Fighting and escaping would send everyone running around, trying to find her. Someone would run into Ace.  
Ciri unbuckled her belt, holding it out it him, sword and all. He took it silently, handing it to Pauline. She extended her arms, palms up, and stood patiently as he closed one handcuff around her wrist, turning her gently around and fastening the other behind her back.  
One hand around her wrist and one on her shoulder, Jay led her out of the training arena. She ignored the stares and whispers of the witnesses as she was paraded towards the High Council chambers.  
The great mahogany doors were dragged open, and she stepped inside, raising her head to meet the eyes of the twelve men and women who would find her guilty of murder.

ACE WAITED NERVOUSLY as the minutes ticked by. After about fifteen minutes, someone arrived to meet a pair of guards standing by an exit door. They left quickly to follow their comrade, leaving him alone. Praying that Ciri hadn't done anything rash or stupid, he bolted outside, following her directions until he found Roarke.  
He pulled his hands out of his pockets with a hiss, trying to ignore the spikes of pain they sent up his arms. The bandages were already crimson with blood.  
"What the hell happened to you?" Roarke demanded.  
"Council procedures," he replied shortly, eyes skimming over the cars parked in the garage. "Are these all council members' cars?"  
"Yeah," Roarke answered. "I found a nice little spiced-up AC Cobra."  
"Great, we'll take it. Let's go."  
Roarke led the way to a little white, blue-striped Cobra, beaming proudly down at it. "Sweet, isn't she?"  
Ace slid into the passenger seat as Roarke gripped the wheel. "Do you know how to hotwire a car?"  
"No," Roarke replied.  
Ace sighed. "Pop the hood. Find some alligator clamps. There's got to be some somewhere in this garage."  
He leaned against the car's leather seats while he waited for Roarke to find the stuff. Whoever owned this car must have been having their mid-life crisis. It screamed 'expensive', from the paintjob to the flashy interior.  
Roarke returned with two pairs of alligator clamps.  
"See the battery and the coil? Connect positive to positive, negative to negative. Good. Now I just need..."  
Ace glanced around, before deciding on a shiny silver metal dial on the dashboard. He slammed his foot down on it, tearing it off. Roarke let out a moan, as if feeling the car's pain. Ace chucked it to him.  
"Put it between the solenoid terminals. It should spark."  
The car rumbled to life. Roarke jumped in, revving the engine and laughing at the sound it produced. "Man, that's sweet."  
"Being a criminal is handy, isn't it?" Ace said, smiling.  
"You're kidding me," Takoda said, and Ace jumped. Takoda had appeared soundlessly beside the passenger door, and was staring increduously down at them. "You have over two hundred cars here and you chose an AC Cobra?"  
"Hey, this car is a beautiful, timeless classic," Roarke said, defending it.  
"And, let me guess - you two didn't disable the tracking device."  
Ace and Roarke exchanged glances. Takoda rolled his eyes, swinging over the back and slamming his foot into the radio. Roarke let out a cry of disbelief and horror as Takoda began pulling out wires.  
"There you go," he said, holding up a chip. He snapped it in half. "Problem solved. Now drive."  
"You are _not_ coming," Roarke began, before Takoda fixed him with a glare.  
"If you leave me here, I'll report you. I know my way out of this place, and you'll need my ID card to get past the front gate guards. Now, drive."

CIRI LEANED AGAINST the wall, legs stretched out across the prison bed as she drummed her fingers against the bare mattress.  
The door slid open and a man in his late forties with greying hair and icey blue eyes stepped in, looking like thunder.  
"What the hell were you thinking?" he hissed, eyes blazing.  
She glared back at him, standing up. "I was thinking that it would be nice to kill off any son of a bitch who gets in my way."  
"How dare you," he snarled, advancing on her. "You will not speak to me like that, Cyrilla."  
"I'll speak however the hell I want to!" she shouted back.  
They glared at each other, unmoving.  
"If your mother was here-" he began.  
"Do not speak about Mom!" she screamed. "Mom would have never have pressured me into joining the High Council or sent me on missions to arrest murderers!"  
"Is that what this is about?" he demanded. "Ashton Kelly?"  
"Yes, it is," she hissed.  
"Is that why you killed Gregory? Because you failed to arrest him and Gregory did?"  
"No, it's because I purposely didn't arrest him for a reason, and Gregory got in the way of my plans."  
Her father stiffened. "He's not in his cell, is he?"  
She smiled cruelly. "No. He's not."  
He moved to the doorway, and beckoned a guard over. "Check prison cell D42. Ashton Kelly's cell."  
The guard nodded, hastening off, before returning to confirm Ciri's statement.  
Her father turned back to her, face full of rage and hands shaking. "You released him?"  
"Yes."  
He slapped her, sending her sprawling back onto the bed. She lay there, shocked. She hadn't expected him to hit her. Shouting, yes, but hitting? Physical violence? No.  
"Why?" he roared. "Why did you let him escape?"  
"Because I love him!"  
Anthony seized her around the neck, dragging her up and pinning her to the wall. "You will never ever have a relationship with a criminal. Not as long as I live."  
Fury reared up within her, red and hot and overpowering. She punched him in the jaw. He released her, stepping back in both shock and pain.  
"Then go die," she spat.  
He narrowed his eyes at her, before moving to the doorway. "Watch her," he ordered the nearest guard. "And make sure she _does not leave this room_."  
The guard nodded, and Anthony Nostredame slammed the door closed behind him, leaving her alone in her cell.

SHE WAS RUNNING up a flight of stairs to a door slightly ajar, revealing a patch of star-speckled midnight burst through the door with Ace at her side, his eyes wide - startled. Before them stood Takoda and Samuel Brocklyn, the latter aiming a gun at the caramel-eyed boy's chest.  
He threw her a malicious grin, before a bullet lodged in Takoda's heart.  
She raced forward as Samuel bolted, taking another corridor off the rooftop. She knelt down at Takoda's side, a hand brushing the blood seeping across his chest. Tears fell onto his face - her tears, she realised - as she leaned over his glazed eyes.  
Ciri bolted upright, her scream piercing the air. Bloodstained and terrifying images played behind her eyes as she thrashed, needing something, someone to comfort her, to reassure her.  
"Hey, hey," a voice said, and arms encompassed her. She buried her face into the woman's dark shoulder, sobbing. Trisha stroked her hair, rocking her gently back and forwards. Ciri was trembling, eyes screwed shut as she cried.  
"Shh," Trisha soothed. "It's alright, honey, it's alright. I'm here, I've got you. It's alright."  
Ciri swallowed. "Takoda," she gasped. "He's not here. He went with them. I need to find him. I need to tell him."  
"Ciri," Trisha said sharply, holding her at arms length. "What happened? What did you see?"  
"Takoda," she whispered. "Takoda dying."  
Trisha's eyes widened, and Ciri dug her nails into the woman's arms, searching her eyes.  
"Please," she begged. "I need to find him."

ACE LAY BACK against the comfortable bed, willing himself to fall asleep. Roarke was already snoring in the adjoining room and Takoda was resting on the sofa. The pain in his hands was keeping him awake. At least the bleeding had slowed down, and they had replaced the bandages.  
He rolled over, his mind buzzing with questions. Was Ciri okay? What had the 'commotion' been? How long until he saw Ciri again?  
Ace sighed, climbing to his feet and moving onto the balcony. The midnight wind was cold against his bare chest and his feet were freezing. Far below him headlights flashed across storefronts, shouting reflections back at him. Neon lights danced in his peripheral vision as he leaned against the railing.  
"Something wrong?"  
Ace glanced over at Takoda as the younger boy leaned against the doorframe. "I'm worried."  
Takoda came and joined him at the railing.  
"You know Ciri, right?" Ace continued. "You don't think she'd do anything stupid, do you?"  
"I've known Ciri since we were six. We attended the school at the Demon Council, and were in the same grade," Takoda said, smiling as he reflected on his memories. "She was teased because of her eyes. I don't know if you've noticed, but they actually have a gold and green-"  
"-ring around the pupil," Ace finished. "I saw."  
"Yeah. Jay - one of the kids there - started taunting her. And then, while we were having a camp-out training, she had one of her nightmare-visions. Jay never let her forget it. I was her only friend. I punched that son of a bitch right in the jaw." Takoda chuckled, eyes glowing. "It made me a target of theirs, but at least it took most of the attention off Ciri. We stayed friends, all up until now. I've known her for sixteen years, and she's never done anything stupid. But I have never seen her fall for anyone like she has with you."  
Ace smiled. "She's beautiful. She's so... confident with herself."  
Takoda smiled softly, before it slipped from his face. "You don't know what the commotion was, do you?"  
Ace glanced at him. "No."  
"Ciri..." He sighed, briefly closing his eyes. "Ciri killed Gregory."  
"What?"  
"The boy who attacked you. Ciri killed him. She handed herself in to create a diversion so you could escape."  
"_What_?" Ace shouted, eyes flaring. "And you _left her there_? Why didn't you help her?"  
"She was brought to the _High Council_," Takoda shot back. "It's the most heavily guarded room in the entire Council Chambers. How the hell did you expect me to get her out with two hundred Demons to arrest me?"  
"You could have waited until they imprisoned her!"  
"She will be fine," he mumbled. "Her father is on the High Council. He wouldn't have let them trial her. Yet."  
"Yet?" Ace said increduously, accusingly.  
"You know what?" Takoda snarled, turning to face him, eyes blazing. "Screw you! If she had just killed you when she met you in that bar, she would never be in this mess! It's your own fault, you bastard."  
He stormed out of the hotel room, Ace glaring after him.

ACE EXHALED ANGRILY, dragging himself up to answer the visitor pounding on the door. He had ignored the first hurried knocks, but he couldn't ignore this. It was probably Takoda, back to restart their yelling match.  
He jerked the door open, and froze at the worried figure standing in the doorway.  
"Ciri?"  
She shoved past him, eyes flickering around the room. She spun around to face him, frantic. "Where is he?" she demanded, obviously shaken. "Where's Takoda?"  
"He stormed out a few minutes ago-"  
She let out a soft cry, eyes filling with fear. She bolted out the door, and he rushed to follow.  
Ciri's heart was in her throat as she pounded up the steps towards the rooftop. He had been here in her vision. She just prayed that he was alone. Prayed that she could save him.  
But she already knew that she couldn't. Already knew that she would witness Takoda die. Deaths were set in stone. They were not preventable or avoidable.  
She released a sob, throwing open the ajar door and bursting onto the rooftop, surrounded by white stars dotted across the midnight sky like salt thrown across a black cloth. Takoda was standing at the far end of the concrete roof, Samuel Brocklyn at the other. A silver gun glimmered in the latter's hand.  
Ace appeared in her peripheral vision, eyes taking in the scene before him with astonishment.  
She screamed, too late.  
The bullet was fired, and Takoda's caramel eyes flew wide. He crumpled as she was jolted into action. She dropped down beside him, dimly registering Samuel's retreating back as he escaped. She brushed a hand against his bloodstained chest, disbelieving that it was his blood that was smeared across her hand.  
"No, no, no," she sobbed, her voice rising in panic and fear. "Takoda! TAKODA!"  
Ace's arms enclosed her, pulling her against him as she screamed wordlessly, tears streaming down her face. She struggled, but he held her firmly, trying to soothe her.  
Takoda's eyes were glazed, unseeing as her tears stained his cheeks.  
"TAKODA!"

CIRI DIDN'T KNOW how long they sat there - she sobbing hysterically and him just holding her, rocking her, promising her it would be fine. Even though it wouldn't. She knew it wouldn't.  
Liar.  
"Liar," she mumbled, and he froze.  
"What?" he asked quietly.  
"Let go of me!" she shouted, shoving against him. He released her and she tumbled onto the cold concrete. She swiped at the tears beneath her eyes. "You could have saved him," she accused. "You could have used a shield...you could have saved him!"  
Her scream echoed across the deserted expanse. Almost deserted. She was here. Ace was here. And Takoda's corpse was here.  
She crawled over to his body, dragging it onto her lap, holding it like she had held the porcelain doll her mother had given her for her sixth birthday. Stroking his face like she had traced the blushing swirls on the doll. Tousling his golden hair like she had wound her fingers in the doll's yellow locks. Holding her hand against his ice cold cheeks like she had pressed her fingers against the doll's dead, unfeeling, uncaring face.  
"Ciri..."  
She held Takoda closer, screwing her eyes shut and cringing away from the hand that Ace outstretched towards her. "Go away," she whispered.  
"Ciri, I-"  
"Go away!" she shouted, and was answered ten-fold by her echo. Ace left.  
Ciri kissed Takoda's forehead, rocking back and forwards, singing a lullaby her mother used to sing to soothe her, to help her to fall alseep. To help her enter a dreamworld where pictures of death and blood didn't taint everything with crimson paint. Takoda had to enter his own dreamworld now. He had to sleep. Let him sleep.  
"Let me sleep," she breathed into his hair.

ACE SLUMPED AGAINST the door, hands on his head. Ciri was in pain, he could see it clearly. And she hadn't wanted his help. Had flinched at his touch.  
Did she hate him?  
"What happened?" Roarke asked quietly, and Ace looked up. The older boy was leaning on the back of the couch.  
Ace swallowed, looking away. "Brocklyn found us. He... he killed Takoda. Shot him."  
Roarke was silent.  
"Ciri's up there," he continued. "Crying."  
"Why aren't you up there with her?"  
"Because she didn't want me!" he shouted, eyes blazing as they fixed on Roarke.  
He leaned his head back against the door, eyes closed. The way she had glared at him, struggled against him...  
"I'm scared for her," he whispered. "I hate her to be like this... in so much pain. I want to help her, make her happier. How do I do it?"  
"She needs to mourn," Roarke said quietly, eyes fixed on a distant memory. "When my father died, I drowned my sorrow in alcohol. I don't think Ciri would do that. She's stronger than I was. I don't know what she'll do, really. I barely know her."  
Ace bit his lip. "It's my fault, and she knows it. I was fighting with Takoda just before he stormed off. I could have put a shield up to try and stop the bullet. I could have saved him, saved her. But now..."  
"What were you two talking about?"  
"Ciri when she was younger. How she was teased and Takoda was the only one who stood up for her. He was her only friend. You can see why she's so devastated. Then Takoda mentioned how she managed to create a diversion so I could escape. She killed Gregory and handed herself in. Probably killed him out of revenge..."  
Ace froze, something clicking in his mind.  
"I could see her doing that," Roarke said with a chuckle. "She wouldn't take anyone hurting her friends lightly."  
"No," Ace murmured. "She wouldn't."  
He leapt up, propelled into action by fear. He jerked the door open, racing up the stairs at the end of the hallway and emerging onto the roof.  
Roarke stepped out behind him, surprised. "What was that about?"  
"She's not here," Ace commented numbly.  
The rooftop was deserted but for the two boys and Takoda's body.  
"Then where is she?" Roarke asked.  
Ace swallowed. "She went after Brocklyn."

CIRI HAULED HERSELF over the wrought-iron fence, keeping low in the bushes. Her hand was steady on her sword as she drew it. She glanced around, her keen eyes searching for signs of life. There were none.  
She threw a glance at the front doors. They stood open, welcoming, inviting. He was expecting her.  
Ciri rose, not bothering with stealth anymore, and made her way up the marble steps. Her footsteps echoed dimly in the wide hall as she stepped into the foyer.  
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she hissed under her breath, and was rewarded with two men leaping from the shadows. Strength Demons. She stabbed forwards, piercing the lower abdomen of the first. The second reached for her arm, craving broken bones and blood, but she sidestepped, slitting his throat.  
Her eyes flickering around rapidly, she moved forwards into the shadows of the hall.  
She froze in the hallway, staring straight ahead at the man who smiled back at her. The dim light from within the room shone on his bare head, casting shadows on his face. She didn't need light to know that he could not bare his teeth at her in a grin. They were sewn shut.  
He stepped backwards, closing the two wooden doors. Fury filled her, and she was propelled into action. She raced down the shadowed hallway, her free hand closing on the cold doorknob and wrenching it open.  
Ciri hesitated, transfixed, in the doorway. The room within was a dizzying clash of white and black. Geometric patterns swam before her eyes, fluctuating. She struggled to balance properly, and barely noticed the other Demons within the room. Her eyes, quickened from training and her power, darted around once, drinking in as much detail as possible.  
Brocklyn was sitting on a black and white armchair, dressed entirely in black. It matched his lip-thread, she noted maliciously. Two men - no, one man and one teenager - stood to each side of him. The first had a shock of blonde hair and the other, younger Demon had chestnut curls. From their light, lean frames, she assumed that they were Speed Demons.  
A girl slightly older than Ciri stood behind Brocklyn. Her hair was a silver that blended nicely with the walls, with one strand of blonde. Her eyes, however, were a bright gold, narrowed in vicious pleasure. Another man in his late twenties, leaning against the disorienting walls, had a blonde fringe that hung across his eyes, the restrained in a short ponytail.  
She didn't have time to notice anyone else as the Speed Demon with blonde hair shot forwards. She was close enough to see his sea blue eyes before she realised that he was there. She leaned back, ducking as his backhand narrowly missed her cheek. She drove her sword forwards, but he moved, backtracking two metres, out of range.  
She bent low, ready to dive away or attack as she gripped her sword firmly. The Speed Demon charged, and she twisted, leaping aside as she raked her sword across the back of his calf. He cried out in pain, dropping to one knee as she hit the floor awkwardly.  
Her eyes met his for a second, and an image flickered across her view. Him on his back, eyes glazed and blank, an endlessly calm ocean. There was a sword wound in his chest.  
She squeezed her eyes shut, disoriented, and held her sword firmly with two hands. He leapt at her, rage on his face, and she tilted her sword up.  
Ciri panted, rolling over and shoving the man off of her as she staggered to her feet. He landed on his back, and she swallowed, turning away. The vision of his death burned in her mind.  
She turned as a two new Demons stepped forwards. The left was a Strength Demon, well-built and physically intimidating. The right was an Intelligence Demon, slight and physically unthreatening, but for the sword that glimmered in his hand.  
If she swung out at the sword-bearer, their swords would clash and the Strength Demon could grab her. If she attacked the Strength Demon, she'd get a sword in her side. They were the perfect duo.  
Ciri stood her ground, on the defensive. The sword-bearer's sword swung towards her, and she ducked, sliding her sword across the Strength Demon's stomach. Her head throbbed, producing two more visions, and she cried out in pain. The sword in the Strength Demon's ribcage, and the Intelligence Demon unconcious on the floor.  
The Strength Demon leapt back, away from her sword as the Intelligence Demon retreated, sword pointed at her and ready to strike. She jerked forwards - a feint - and the sword-bearer reacted instantly. He drove his weapon forwards, realising too late that it was a feint, as she grabbed his swordhand. The Strength Demon ran forwards, and she bent the Intelligence Demon's wrist back, earning a scream from him and the crack of broken bones. The sword slid into the Strength Demon's ribs as the Intelligence Demon dropped to his knees. The larger of the two flailed, hand finding a hold on the weaker's neck, and clung to it, praying for survival - a safety bouy to haul him from the darkness that plagued his vision. Both slumped back, dead.  
Not unconcious, Ciri thought as she swallowed uncomfortably. She only saw deaths.  
Before she could prepare for the next attacker, a closed fist slammed into her temple. She fell back, dizzy, and hit her head against the wall. Her vision swam - the disorienting room not helping her focus - as the other Speed Demon appeared a metre from her.  
And then, the room exploded.  
The doors burst in, tearing free of their hinges and knocking a few Demons unconcious. The Speed Demon was back in front of Brocklyn, shielding him, as Ace stepped into the room.  
And he was pissed.  
His black hair was a mess, and his emerald eyes blazed against his pale complexion as he raised his hands, palms towards them. He looked like some angel sent straight from hell. Ciri could almost imagine the black wings sprouting from his shoulder blades.  
Beside him prowled a russet-coloured wolf, a single lock of white hair on it's forehead. It bared it's teeth, snarling as it advanced.  
But the man leaning against the wall stood up, raising his own palms, his blonde fringe swinging in front of his eyes.  
"Ace!" Ciri screamed. "Shield!"  
Thank God he obeyed. The blonde man's forcewall slammed into Ace's shattering it, but it disappaited. Ace narrowed his eyes, slamming the man back into the wall. He let out a gasp, but climbed quickly to his feet as Roarke sank his teeth into the chestnut-haired Speed Demon.  
Ciri staggered to her feet, but doubled over, images flashing, one after another. They set her head on fire, promising blood and weapons and blank unseeing eyes...  
She had to help Ace.  
She pushed herself upright, struggling to maintain her balance, and stumbled towards them, raising her hands. It was easier to channel power through her nerves, like a Deflection Demon such as Ace. She sent out a pulsing wave of darkness that caught the attacking Demons off guard for a moment, before they resumed their battle.  
And there, amid the chaos and mayhem around him, sat Brocklyn. Smiling.  
Once final vision hit her before she ran forwards, sword at the ready. She raised her faithful katana over her head, and brought it down towards Takoda's murderer's head.  
Out of the corner of her eye, she realised that Roarke wasn't fighting anymore. He had been thrown across the room and was staggering to his feet, dazed.  
She realised what was going to happen only seconds before it did.  
The chestnut-haired Speed Demon's hand closed on her wrist, jerking her to a halt, before he kneed her in the stomach. She cried out, briefly closing her eyes as she fell back. He wrenched the sword from her grasp and turned it on her, prepared to kill.  
"CIRI!"  
Ace had seen. He had turned, hands swinging around to face the Speed Demon. The bastard holding her sword was blown off his feet as Ace hit him with a forcewall. Relief flooded Ciri, before she noticed what Ace had not.  
The Deflection Demon with the ponytail was still attacking, and Ace - his attention diverted - was open.  
"No!" she screamed, eyes wide with horror as an image, more agonising that the rest, burst in her view, shielding the her eyes from the chaos.  
Too late. Once again, too late.  
Ace's eyes grew wide as he dropped to his knees, clutching at his throat. The Deflection Demon laughed, but the sound never reached Ciri's ears. Ace was choking, being strangling to death. Unable to drag air past the shield in his throat.  
Her scream pierced the air, filling her ears as his eyes rolled back, his arms going limp as he slumped. She couldn't take it. Not anymore.  
Visions exploded from her. Deaths and murderers and corpses burst from her, flooding the room and startling everyone, dragging their attention to her curse, her visions.  
_This is how you die_, she thought visciously, painting the words in red across their view. She crawled, weak and nauseous, to Ace's side.  
"Ace," she whispered, eyes filling for the second time that night. She cradled his face in her hands, shaking him, pleading with him, begging him.  
Please, please, please get up.  
Get up. Get up. Get up.  
Strong hands clamped down on her shoulders, and she clutched Ace to her chest, anger rising in her, ready to strike out at her attacker...  
Roarke grabbed Ace, slinging him over one shoulder and dragging her up roughly by the arm. She stumbled after him, eyes swimming and vision blurring.  
Gone. Gone. Gone.  
How long until I'm gone? she wondered.  
Roarke was on a mobile, shouting into the mouthpiece as she clung to his shirt, letting him be her guide. Where was her light in the darkness that descended upon her? Her guardian angel to carry her up, out of the darkness.  
But her light was gone. Takoda was gone, dead.  
Her angel...her brave, avenging, _beautiful_ angel couldn't carry her, couldn't lift her into his arms. He had fallen, fallen as the darkness consumed him.  
Let her be with him. Let this darkness take them both to a better place, a happier place.  
Ciri let go, and the darkness consumed her.


End file.
